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MEDITATIONS 

AND 

CONTEMPLATIONS : 

ffl TWO VOLUMES. 

CONTAINING: 
VOL. I 

MEDITATIONS AMONG THE TOMBS: 

REFLECTIONS ON A FLOWER-GARDEN : AND," 
A DESCANT UPON CREATION. 

VOL. IT. 

CONTEMPLATIONS ON THE NIGHT: 

CONTEMPLATIONS ON THE STARRY HEAVENS: AND, 

A WINTER PIECE. 



BY JAMES HERVEY, A. M. 

Late Hector of Weston-Favell, Northamptonshire, 



VOL, I. 



NEW- YORK : 

PUBLISHED BY EVERT DUYCKINCKj 
110 PEAR L'-S T R E E T . 

W. W. Vermilye, Printer. 

' ■ ' 1805. - '- :. v? *y. 



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2MADAM, 

HPHESE Reflections, the one on the deepest, the 
A other on the gayest scenes of Nature, when they 
proceeded privately from the /ie?i y were addressed to a 
lady of the most valuable endowments ; who crowned 
all her other endearing qualities with a fervent love of 
Christ, and an exemplary conformity of his divine pat- 
tern. She, alas I jives no longer on earth, unless it be 
in the honours of a distinguished character, and in the 
bleeding remembrance of her acquaintance. 

It is impossible, Madam, to wish you a richer blessing, 
or a more substantial happiness, than that the same 
\ spirit of unfeignedyazV/z, the same course of underlled 
religion, which have enabled her to triumph over death, 
may both animate and adorn your life. And you will 
permit me to declare, that my chief inducement in re- 
questing your acceptance of the following Meditations, 
now they make a public appearance from the press, is 5 
that they are designed to cultivate the same sacred prin- 
ciple, and to promote the same excellent firactite. 

Long, Madam, may you bloom in all the vivacity arid 
arniableness of youth, like the charming subject of one 
of these contemplations. But at the same time re- 
member, that with regard to such inferior accomplish?* 
ments, you must one dixy fade, (may it pruve some very 
remote period 1) like the mournful objects of the ether. 
This consideration will prompt you to goon as you have 
begun, in adding the meekness of nvisdmn, and all the 
beauties of holiness, to the graces of aft engaging pels 
son, and the refinement of a polite education. 

. And mi gift ~G'. might the ensuing hints furnish 

you with the least assistance in prosecuting so desirable 
an end ; might they contribute, in any degree to esta- 
blish your faith, or elevate your devotion \ they would, 
then, administer to the Author such a satisfaction, as 
applause cannot give, nor censure take away : A satis- 



IV DEDICATION. 

faction, which I should be able to enjoy, even in those 
awful moments, when all that captivates the eye is sink- 
ing in darkness, and every glory of this lower world 
disappearing for ever. 

These wishes, Madam, as they are a most agreeable 
employ of my thoughts, so they come attended with this 
additional circumstance of pleasure, that they arc also 
the sincerest expression of that very great esteem, with 
which I am 3 

Madam, 

Your most obedient, 

Most humble servant, 

JAMES HERVEY. 



Weston-Favell, near 

Northampton, 
May 20, 1749. 



} 



PREFACE. 

THE first of these occasional Meditations begs leave to re- 
mind my readers of their latter end ; and would invite 
them to set, not their house only, but which is inexpressibly 
more needful, their souls, in order : That they may be able, 
thro' all the immediate stages, to look forward upon their ap- 
proaching exit, without any anxious apprehensions ; and, when 
the great change commences, may bid adieu to terrestrial things 
with ail the calmness of a chearful resignation, with all the 
comforts of a well-grounded faith. 

The other attempts to sketch out some little traces of the 
all-sufficiency of our Redeemer, for the grand and gracious pur- 
poses of everlasting salvation ; that a sense of his unutterable 
dignity, and infinite perfections, may incite us to regard him 
with sentiments of the most profound veneration : to long for 
an assured interest in his merits, with all the ardency of de- 
sire ; and to trust in his powerful mediation, with an affiance 
not to be shaken by any temptations, not to be shared with any 
performances of our own. 

I flatter myself, that the thoughts conceived among the 
tcmbs, may be a welcome to the serious and humane mind : — 
Because, as there are few who have not: consigned the remains 
of dear relations, or honored friends, 10 those silent reposito- 
ries ; so there are none but must be sensible, that it is tn;e 
bouse appointed for all living ; and that they themselves are 
shortly to remove into the same solemn mansions. — And w&o 
would not turn aside for a while from the most favorite 
amusements, to view the place where his once loved companions 
lie ? who would not sometimes survey those apartments, where 
he himself is to take up an abode, till time shall be no more ? 

As to the other little essay, may I not humbly presume, that 
the very subject itself will recommend the remarks ? For who 
is not delighted with the prospect of the blooming creation, 
&n& even charmed with the delicate attraction of flowers ? Who 
does not covet to assemble them in the garden, or wear them 
in a nosegay ? Since this is a passion so universal, who would 
not be willing to render it productive of the sublimest improve- 
ment ? This piece of holy frugality I have ventured to sug- 
gest, and endeavored to exemplify, in the second letter ; that 
while the hand is cropping the transient beauties of a flower, 
the attentive mind may be enriching itself with solid and lasting 

good. And I cannot but entertain some pleasing hopes that 

the nicest taste may receive and relish religious impressions, 
when they are conveyed by such lovely monitors / when the in- 
structive lessons are found, not on the leaves of some formida- 
hie folio, but stand legible on the fine sarcenet or narcissus ; 
when they savor not of the lamp and recluse, but come breath- 
fijgfrom the fragrant bosom of ^jonqml, 
A 2 



VERSES TO MR. HERVEY, 

ON HIS 

;0ietsttattotis* 



IN these lov'd scenes, what rapt'rous graces shine, 
Live in each leaf, and breathe in every line ! 
What sacred beauties beam thronghoitt the whole, 
To charm the sense, and steal upon the soul i 
I& classic elegance, and thoughts — his own, 
We see our faults, as in a mirror shown ; 
Each truth, in glaring characters exprest, 
All own the twin resemblance in their breast : 
His easy periods, and persuasive page, 
At once amend, and entertain the age : 
Nature's wild fields all open to his view, 
He charms the mind with something ever new 4 
On fancy's pinions, his advent'rous soul 
Wantons unbounded, and pervades the whole : 
From death's dark caverns in the earth below, 
To spheres, where planets roll, or comets glow. 

See him explore, with more than human eyes, 
The dreary sepulchre, where Grenville lies : 
Converse with stones, or monumental brass, 
The rude inscriptions — or the painted glass : 
To gloomy vanity descend with awful tread, 
And view the silent mansions of the dead. 

To gayer scenes he next adapts his lines, 
Where lavish'd Nature in embroid'ry shines : 
The jess'mine groves, the woodbine's fragrant bow'rs, 
With all the painted family of flow'rs ; 
There, Sacharissa ! in each fleeting grace, 
Read all the transient honors of thy face. 

With equal dignity, now see him rise 
To paint the sabie horrors of the skies. 
When all the wild horizon lies in shade ; 
And midnight phantoms sweep along the glade : 
All nature hush'd — a solemn silence reigns, 
And scarce a breeze disturbs the sleeping plains. 
Last, yet not less, in majesty of phrase, 
He draws the full-orb'd moon's expansive blaze » 
The waving meteors, trembling ixtm. on high a 
With all the mute artill'ry of the sky : 



VERSES TO MR. HERVEY, &CC« VU 

Systems on systems, which in order roll, 

And dart their lambent beams from pole to pole. 

Hail, mighty genius! whose excursive soul 
No bounds confine, no limits can controul, 
Whose eye expatiates, and whose mind can rove, 
Thro' earth, thro' aether, and the realms above: 
From things inanimate can direct the rod,* 
In just gradation, to ascend to God. 
Taught by thy lines, see hoary age grows wise, 
And all the rebel in his bosom dies: 
E'en thoughtless youth, in luxury of blood, 
Fly the infectious world, and dare—be good : 
Thy sacred truths shall reach th' impervious heart; 
Discord shall cease, disease forget to smart, 
E'en malice, love, and calumny commend ; 
Pride beg an aim, and av'rice turn a friend. 

Centred in Christ, who fires the soul -within, 
The flesh shall know no pain, the soul no sin; 
E'en in the terrors of expiring breath, 
We bless the friendly stroke, and live— in death. 
Oxford, April 28, 1748. 



BY A PHYSICIAN. 

CELESTIAL Mediant! whose arduous rise 
Deep from the tombs, and kindle to the skies; 
Mow shall an earthly bard's profaner string 
Resound the nights of thy seraphic wing? 
When great Elijah, in the fiery car, 
Flam'd visible to heav'n, a living star, 
A seer remain 'd to thunder what he knew, 
And with his mantle caught his spirit too. 4ft 

Wit, fancy, fire, and elegance, have long 
Been lost in vicious or ignoble song ; 
Sunk from the chastely grand, the poor sublime, 
They flatter 'd wealth or pow'r, and murder'd time. 
'Tis thine their devious lustre to reduce, 
To prove their noblest pow'r, their genuine use ; 
From earth-born fumes to clear their tainted name, 
And point their flight to heav'n — —from whence they cam®. 
O more than bard, in prose ! to whom belong 
Harmonious style and thought, in rhymeless song; 
Oft, by thy friendly conduct, let me tread 
The softly-whispering mansions ©f the dead ; 
Where the grim forms, calcining hinds and lords, 
Grin at each fond distinction pride records. 

* An allusion to the custom of shewing curious objects, and 
particularizing their respective delicacies by the pointing of % 
rod. 



Vlll 

Dumb, with immortal energy they teach ; 

Lifeless, they threaten ; mould'ring as they preachy 

To each succeeding age, thro* ev'ry clime, 

The span of life, and endless round of time : 

Hence may propitious melancholy flow. 

And safety find me in the vaults of woe. 

While ev'ry virtue forms thy mental feast, 
I glow with fair sincerity at least : 
I feel (thy face unknown) thy heart refm'd, 
And taste, with bliss, the beauties of thy mind ; 
Collecting clearly, thro* thy sacred plan, 
What reverence of God ! what love to man ! 
— O ! when at last our deathless form shall rise, 
And flowers and stars desist to moralize ; 
Shall then my soul, by thine inform'd survey, 
And bear the splendors of essential day ? 
But while my thoughts indulge the glorious scope, 
(My utmost worth beneath the humblest hope,) 
Conscience or some exhorting angel, cries, 
* 4 No lazy wishes reach above the skies. 
*' Would you indeed the perfect scenes survey, 
*' And share the triumphs of unbounded day ; 
" His love-diffusive life with ardor live ; 
" And die like this divine contemplative." 
Leiulon, July 9, 1748. 



BY A PHYSICIAN. 

TO form the taste, and raise the nobler part, 
To mend the morals, and to warm the heart j 
To trace the genial source, we Nature call, 
And prove the God of Nature friend of all ; 
Hervey for this his mental landscape drew, 
And sketch'd the whole creation out to view. 

Th' enamel 'd bloom, %vA variegated flow'r, 
Whose crimson changes with the changing hour : 
The humble shrub, whose fragrance scents the morn, 
With buds disclosing to the early dawn ; 
The oaks that grace Britania's mountain side, 
And spicy Lebanon's superior pride*: 
All loudly Sov'reign Excellence proclaim, 
And animated worlds confess the same. 

The azure fields that form th' extended sky, 
The planetary globes that roll on high, 
And solar orbs, of proudest blaze combine, 
To act subservient to the great design. 
Men, angels, seraphs, join the genVal voice ; 
And in the Lord of Nature ALL rejoice. 

* The Cedar. 




ON HIS MEDITATIONS. IX 

His, the grey Winter's venerable guise, 
! Its shrouded glories, and instructive skies*; 

His, the snow's plumes that brood the sick'ning blade ; 
His, the bright pendant that impearls the glade ; 
The waving forest, or the whispering brake ; 

■ The surging billow, or the sleeping lake. 
The Same who pours tlu beauties of the spring, 
Or mounts the whirlwind's desolated wing. 
The Same who smiles in nature's peaceful form, 
Frowns in the tempest, and directs the storm. 

'Tis thine, whose life's a comment on thy page ; 
Thy happy page ! whose periods sweetly flow, 
Whose figures charm us, and whose colours glow ; 
Where artless piety pervades the whole, 
Refines the genius and exalts the soul. 
For let the witling argue all he can, 
It is religion still that makes the man. 
*Tis this, my friend, that streaks our morning bright, 
'Tis this that gilds the horrors of the night. 
When wealth forsakes ms, and when friends are few 5 
When friends are faithless, or when foes puisue ; 
'Tis this, that wards the blow or stills the smart : 
Disarms affliction, or repels the dart ; 
Within the breast bids purest rapture rise ; 
Bids smiling conscience spread her clomdless skies. 
When the storm thickens, and the thunder rolls, 
When the earth trembles to th' afrighted poles ; 
The virtuous mind, nor doubts nor fears assail ; 
For storms or zephyrs, ©r a gentler gale. 

And when disease obstructs the lab'ring breath, 
When the heart sickens, and is pulse its death j 
E'en then religion shall sustain the just, 
Grace their last moments, nor desert their dust. 
August 5, 1?48. 

AS some new star attracts th' admiring sight, 
His splendors pouring thro' the fields of light, 
Whole nights, delighted with th' unusual rays, 
On the fair heav'nly visitant we gaze ; 
So thy fam'd volumes sweet surprize impart ; 
Mark'd by all eyes, and felt by every heart. 
Nature inform'd by thee, new paths has trod, 
And rises, here, a preacher for her God; 
By Fancy's aids mysterious heights she tries, 
And lures us by our senses, to the skies. 
To deck thy style collected graces throng, 
Bold as the pencil's tints, yet soft as song. 
In themes, how rich thy veins ! how pure thy choice ! 
Transcripts of truths, own'd clear from scripture's voice ; 
* Referring to the Winter-Piece, 



Thy judgment these, and piety attest, 
Transcripts— —read only fairer in thy breast, 
There, what thy works would shew, we best may see, 
And all they reach in doctrine /iw in thee. 

Oh ! — might they live ! — Our prayers their strife engage ; 
But thy fix'd languors yield us sad presage. 
In vain skill'd Med' cine tries her heal? #g art : 
Disease, long foe, entrenches at thy heart. 
Yet on new labors still thy mind is prone, 
For a world's good too thoughtless of thy own. 
Advice, like day's kind orb, life's course you run, 
Its sphere still glories, thro' a netting sun, 
Redemption opes thee wide her healing plan, 
Health's only balm ; her sov'reign gift to man. 
Themes sweet like these thy ardors fresh excite ; 
Warm at the soul, they nerve the hand to write ; 
Make thy try'd virtues in their charms appear, 
Patience, rais'd hope, firm faith, and love sincere 5 
Like a big constellation, bright they glow, 
And beam out lovelier by thy night of woe. 

Known were thy merits to the public long, 
Ere own'd thus feebly in my humble song. 
Damp'd are my fires ; my heart dark cares depress ; 
A heart, too feeling from its own distress. 
Proud on thy friendship, yet to build ray fame, 
I gain'd my page* a sanction from thy name. 
Weak those returns (by gratitude tho' led,) 
Where mine shall in thy fav'rite leaves be read. 
Yet o'er my conscious meanness hope prevails ; 
Love gives me merit, where my genius fails. 
On its strong base my small desert I raise, 
Averse ?o fiatt'ry as unskiU'd to praise. 

Mile-End Green-, Feb. 23, 1749. Moses Brown. 

WHENCE flow these solemn sounds ? this raptur'd strain I 
Cherubic notes my wond'ring ear detain ! 
Yet 'tis a mortal's voice : 'Tis Hervey sings ; 
Sublime he soars on contemplations wings : 
In ev'ry period breath's ecstatic thought, 
Hervey, 'twas heaven thy sacred lessons taught. 
Celestial visions bless thy studious hours, 
Thy lonely walks, and thy sequester'd bowers. 
What fav'rite pow'r, dispensing secret aids, 
Thy cavern'd cell, thy curtain'd couch, pervades ? 
Still hovering near, observant of thy themes 
In whimpers prompts thee, or inspires thy dreams I 
Jesus ! eifulgence of paternal light 1 
Ineffably divine ! supremely bright ! 

* Sunday thoughts. 



ON HIS MEDITATIONS. XI 

Whose energy according worlds attest, 
Kindled those ardors in thy glowing breast. 
We catch thy flame, as we thy page peruse : 
And faith in ev'ry object Jesus views. 
We in the bloomy breathing garden trace 
Somewhat— like emanations of his grace : 
Yet must all sweetness and all beauty yield, 
Idume's grove, and Sharon's flow'ry field, 
Compared with Jesus, meanly, meanly shows 
The brightest lily, faint the loveliest rose. 

Divine instructor ! lead thro' midnight glooms, 
To moralizing stars, and preaching tombs : 
Thro' the still void a Saviour's voice shall break, 
A ray from jfacob's star the darkness streak : 
To him the fairest scenes their lustre owe ; 
His cov'nant brightens the celestial bow : 
His vast benevolence profusely spreads 
The yellow harvest, and the verdent meads. 
Thy pupil, Hervey, a Redeemer finds 
In boundless oceans, and in viewless winds : 
He reins at will the furious blasts, and guides 
The rending tempest and the roaring tides. 
O give, my soul, thy welfare to his trust 
Who rais'd the world, can raise thy sleeping dust ! 
He will, he will, when nature's course is run, 
'Midst failing stars, and an extinguish'd sun : 
He will with myriads of his saints appear; 
O may I join them, tho' the meanest there! 

Tho' nearer to the throne my Hervey sings $ 
Tho' I at humbler distance strike the strings ; 
Yet both shall mingle in the same employ, 
Both drink the fulness of eternal joy. 



Ckrkemuell- Green, 
Feb. 24, 1749. 



> John D^jck, 



WHAT numbers of our race survey 
The monarch of the golden day, 
Night's ample canopy unfurPd, 
In gloomy grandeur round the world, 
The earth in spring's embroid'ry drest, 
And ocean's ever-working breast ! 
And still no grateful honors raise 
To him who spreads the spacious skies, 
Who hung the air-suspended ball, 
And Fives, and reigns, and shines, in all ! 

To chase our sensual fogs away, 
And bright to pour th* eternal ray 
Of Deity inscribed around, 
Wide Nature to her utmost bound, 



XU VERSES TO MR. HERVEY, 

Is Hervey's task ; and well his skill 
Celestial can the task fulfil : 
Ascending from these scenes below, 
Ardent the Maker's praise to show, 
His sacred contemplations soar, 
And teach our wonder to adore. 

Now he surveys the realms beneath, 
The realms of horror, and of death ; 
Now entertains his vernal hours 
In How'ry walks, and blooming bow'rs : 
Now hails the black-brow 'd night, that brings 
./Etherial dews upon her wings ; 
Now marks the planets as they roll 
On burning axles round the pole : 
While tombs, and jfiowcrs, and shades, and stars, 
Unveil their sacred characters 
Of justice, wisdom, power and love ; 
And lift the soul to realms above, 
Where dwells the God, in glory crown'd, 
Who sends his boundless influence round* 

So Jacob, in his blissful dreams, 
Array'd in heaven's refulgent beams, 
Saw from the ground a scale arise, 
Whose summit mingled with the skies : 
Angels were pleas'd to pass the road, 
The stage to earth, and path to God. 

Hervey, proceed, for Nature yields 
Fresh treasure in her ample fields ; 
And in seraphic ecstacy 
Still bear us to the throne on high. 
Ocean's wild wonders next explore, 
His changing scenes, and secret store ; 
Or let dire earthquake claim thy toil, 
Earthquake, that shakes a guilty isle. 

So, if small things may shadow forth, 
Dear man, thy labors and thy worth, 
The bee upon the flow'ry lawn, 
Imbibes the lucid drops of dawn, 
Works them in his mysterious mould, 
And turns the common dew to gold. 

MvT,m9. } T » 0MAS «*"•* 

DELIGHTFUL Author ! whom the saints inspire I 
And whisp'ring angels with their ardors fire ! 
I rom youth like mine, wilt thou accept of praise I 
Or smile with candor on a stripling's lays ? 
My little laurel (but a shoot at most) 
Mas hardly more than one small wreath to boa*t 



Z ctppiitUbiVC &t>llg 

ide obtain. "^ 
:al explain ? C 
yz a strain. _j 



ON HIS MEDITATIONS. Xlll 

Such as it is (ah ! might it worthier be') 

Its scanty foilage all is due to Thee. 

Oh ! if, amongst the honors of thy brow, 

This slender circlet may but humbly grow : 

If its faint verdure haply may find place ■ 

A foil to others ; -tho' its own disgrace ; 

Accept it, Hervey, from a heart sincere ; 

And for the giver's sake, — the tribute wear. 

Thy soul-improving work perus'd, what tongue '■ 

Can hold from praise, or check the applausive song? 

But ah ! from whence shall gratitude obtain 

Language that may its glowing zeal 

How to such wondrous worth adapt 

Describ'd by thee, old sepulchres can charm 

Storms calm the soul, and freezing winter, warm. 

Cleared from her gloomy shades, we view pale night 

Surrounded with a blaze of mental light. 

Lo ! when she comes ! all silent ! pensive ! slow \ 

On her dark robe unnumber's meteors glow ! 

High on her head a starry crown she wears ! 

Bright in her hand the lamp of Reason bears ! 

Smiting, behold! she points the soul to Heav'n, 

And bids the weeping sinner be forgiven ! 
But when thy fancy shifts this solemn scene, 

And ruddy morning gilds the cheeiful green ; 

With sudden joy we view the prospect changed, 

And blushing sw^eets in beauteous order rang'd. 

We see the violets : smell the dewy rose, 

And each perfume that from the woodbine flows ; 

A boundless perspective there greets our eyes ; 
Rich vales. descend, and verdant mountains rise. 
The shepherd's cottages, the rural folds : 
All that thy art describes, the eye beholds ! 

Amazing Limner ! whence this matchless pow'r \ 
Thy work's a garden !— - ev'ry word, a flower I 
Thy lovely tints almost the bloom excel, 
And none but Nature's self can paint so well ! 

Hail, holy man ! — ■ henceforth thy work shall stand* 

(Like some fair column by a master-hand, 
Which, whilst it props, adoniVtUe tow'iing pile,) 
At once to grace and elevate our isle. 
Tho' simple, lofty, tho' majestic, plain ; 
Whose bold design the rules of art restrain. 
In which the nicest eye sees -nothing 1 wrong ; 
Tho' polish'd. just ; and elegant, tho' strong. 

June 24, 1750. St. George Moleswort 

T[N Pleasure's lap the muses long have lain, 
A And hung attentive, on her Syren strain ; 

B 



XiV VERSES TO MR. HERVEY, &C* 

Still toils the bard beneath some weak design, 

And puny thought but halts along the line ; 

Or tuneful nothings, stealing on the mind, 

Melt into air, nor leave a trace behind. 

While to thy rapt'rous prose, we feel belong, 

The strength of wisdom, and the voice of song; 

This lifts the torch of sacred Truth on high, 

And points their captives to their native sky. 

How false the joys which earth or sense inspires, 

That clog the soul , and damp her purer fires ! 

Truths, which thy solemn scenes, my friend, declare, 

Whose glowing colours paint us as we are. 

Yet not morosely stern, nor idly gay, 

Dull melancholy reigns, or trifles sway ; 

III would the strain of levity befit, 

And sullen gloom but sadden all thy wit : 

Truth, judgment, sense, imagination join ; 

And ev'ry muse, and ev'ry grace, is thine. 

Religion prompting the true end of man, 

Conspiring genius executes the plan ; 

Strong to convince, and elegant to charm, 

Plaintive to melt, or passionate to warm. 

Rais'd by degrees, we elevate our aim ; 

And grow immortal as we catch thy flame ; 

True piety informs our languid hearts, 

And all the vicious, and the vain departs. 
So, when foul-spreading fogs creep slowly on, 
Blot the fair morn, and hide the golden sun ; 
Ardent he po^rs the boundless blaze of day, 
Rides through the sky, and shines the mist away. 
O ! had it been th' Almighty's gracious will, 
That I had shared a portion of thy skill ; 
Had this poor breast receiv'd the heav'nly beam, 
Which spreads its lustre thro' thy various theme ; 
That speaks deep lessons from the silent tomb, 
And crowns thy garden with fresh-springing bloom ; 
Or, piercing thro' creation's ample whole, 
Now soothes the night, or gilds the starry pole ; 
Or marks how Whiter calls her howling train, 
Her snows and storms, that desolate the plaia ; 
With thee the muse shall trace the pleasing road. 
That leads from Nature up to Nature's God ; 
Humble to learn, and, as she knows the more, 
Clad to obey, and happy to adore. 

Northampton | " P E TEte Whalut. 

dug. 25, 1750^ 



EDITATIONS 
9mong tfjc Combs. 



IN A LETTER TO A LADY. 



MADAM, 

TRAVELLING lately info Cornwall, 1 happened to adight 
at a considerable village in that country, where, finding 
myself under an unexpected necessity of staying a little, I took 
a walk to the church.* The doors, like the heaven to which 
they lead, were wide open, and readily admitted an unworthy 
stranger. Pleased with the opportunity, I resolved to spend a 
few minutes under the sacred roof. 

Tn a situation so retired and awfuV I could not avoid falling 
into a train of meditations, serious and mournfully pleasing ; 
which I trust, were in some degree profitable to me, while they 
possessed and warmed my thoughts ; and if they may admi- 
nister any satisfaction to you, madam, now they are recollect- 
ed, and committed to writing, I shall receive a fresh pleasure 
from them. 

It was an ancient pile ; reared by hands, that, ages ago were 
mouldered into dust. — —Situate in the centre of a large burial 
ground ; remote from all the noise and hurry of tumultuous 
life. — The body spacious ; the structure lofty ; the whole mag- 
mfice: it 'y plain. A row of regular pillars extending themselves 
through the midst; supporting the roof with simplicity, and 

with dignity,' -The light that passed through the windows, 

seemed to shed a kind of luminous obscurity ; which gave eve- 
ry object a grave and venerable air. — The deep silence added 
to the gloomy aspect, and both, heightened by the loneliness 

* I have named, in some former editions, a particular church, 
viz. K'dkhampton; where several-of the monuments, described 
in the following pages, really exist. But as I thought it cosi- 
irenient to mention some cases here, which are. not, according 
to the best of my remembrance, referred to.iuany inscriptions 
there, I have now omitted the name; that imagination might 
operate more freely, and the improvement of the reader be 
consulted without any thing that should look like a variation 
from truth and fact. 



16 MEDITATIONS 

of the place, greatly increased the solemnity of the scene. — 
A son of religious dread stole insensibly on my mind, while I 
advanced, all pensive and thoughtful, along the inmost isle ; 
such a dread as hushed every ruder passion, and dissipated all 
the gay images of an alluring world. 

Having adored that Eternal Majesty, who, far from being 
confined to temples made with hands, has heaven for his throne, 
and the earth for his footstool — I took particular notice of a 
handsome altar-piece ; presented, as I was afterwards inform- 
ed, by the master-builders of Stow,* out of Gratitude to God, 
wfco carried them through their work, and enabled them to 
" bring forth their top-stone with joy." 

O ! how amiable is gratitude, especially when it has the su- 
preme benefactor for its object. I have always looked upon 
gratitude, as the most exalted principle that can actuate the 
heart of man. It has something noble, disinterested, and (if 
I may be allowed the term) generously devout. Repentance 
indicates our nature fallen, and prayer turns chiefly upon a re- 
gard to one's self : But the exercises of gratitude subsisted in, 
paradise, when there was no fault to deplore : and will be per- - 
petuated in heaven, when " God shall be all in all."- 

The language of this sweet temper is, " I am unspeakably 
obliged : what return shall I make?" — and surely, it is no im- 
proper expression of an unfeigned thankfulness, to decorate our 
creator's courts, and beautify (i the place where his honor 
dweiieth." Of old the habitation of his feet was glorious : let 
it not now, be sordid or contemptible. It must grieve an in- 
genious mind, and be a reproach to any people, to have their 
own houses wainscotted with cedar, and painted with vermil- 
hon : while the temple of the Lord of hosts is destitute of 
every decent ornament. 

Here I recollected, and was charmed with Solommis fixe ad- 
dress to the Almighty at the dedication of his famous temple. 
With immense charge, and exquisite skill, he had erected the 
most rich and finished structure than the sun ever saw. Yet, 
upon a review of his work, and a reflection on the transcendant 
perfections of the Godhead, how it exalts the one, and abases 
the other ! The building was too glorious, for the mightiest 
monarch to inhabit ; too sacred, for unhallowed feet even to 
enter; yet infinitely too mean for the Deity to reside in. It 
was, and the royal worshipper acknowledged it to be, a most 

* The name of a grand seat, belonging to the late Earl of 
Bath * re m ark able formerly for its excellent workmanship, and 
elegant furniture ; once the principal resert of the quality and 
gentry of the west; but now demolished, laid even with the 
ground, and scarce one stone left upon another.— So that corn 
may grow, or nettles spring, where Stow lately stood. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 17 

marvellous vouchsafement in uncreated Excellency, to " put 
his name there." — The whole passage breathes such a delicacy, 
and is animated with such a sublimity of sentiment, that J can- 
not persuade myself to pass on without repeating it. But will 
God indeed dwell on earth ? Behold ! the heaven, and heaven 
of heavens cannot contain thee ; how much less this house that I 
have builded* ! — Incomparable saying ! worthy the wisest of 
men. Who would not choose to possess such an elevated devo- 
tion, rather than to own all the glittering materials of that 
sumptuous edifice ? 

We are apt to "be struck with admiration at the stateliness 
and grandeur of a masterly performance in architecture. And 
perhaps, on a sight of the ancient sanctuary, should have made 
the superficial observation of the disciples ; " What man- 
ner of stones, and what buildings are here !" — but what a no- 
bler turn of thought, and juster taste of things does it discover ; 
to join with Israel's king* in celebrating the condescension of 
the divine inhabitant ! that the high and lofty One, who fills 
.immensity with his glory, should in a peculiar manner, fix his 
•abode there ! Should there manifest an extraordinary degree 
of his benedictive presence; permit sinful mortals to approach 

* l'Kings viii. 27. But will — A fine abrupt beginning, most 
significantly describing the amazement and rapture of the royal 

prophet's mind ! GOD : He uses no epithet, where writers 

of inferior discernment would have been fond to multiply them ; 
but speaks of the Deity as an incomprehensible Being, whose 

perfections and glories arc exalted above all praise. Dwell .-■ 

To bestow on sinful creatures a propitious look ; to favor them 
with a transient visit of kindness ; even this were an unuttera- 
ble obligation. Will he then vouchsafe to fix his abode among 
them, and take up his stated residence with them ? Indeed .♦ 
A word in this connection, peculiarly emphatical ; expressive 
of a condescension, wonderful and extraordinary almost be- 
yond all credibility. — Behold / Intimating the continued or ra- 
ther the increasing surprize of the speaker, and awakening the 
attention of the hearer. — Behold ! the heaven : The spacious 
concave of the firmamens ; that wide extended azure circum- 
ference, in which worlds unnumbered perform their revolutions, 
is too scanty an apartment for the Godhead. — Nay, Ihe heaven 
of heavens : Those vastly higher tracts, which lie far beyond 
the limits of human survey ; to which our very thoughts can 
hardly soar ; even these (unbounded as they are) cannot afford 
an adequate habitation for Jehovah : even those dwindle into 
a point, when compared to the infinitude of Ms essence ; even 
these " are as nothing before him." How much less proportion- 
ate is this poor diminutive speck (which I have been erecting 
and embellishing) to so august a presence, s© immense a 
Majesty ! 

B2 



18 MEDITATIONS 

his Majesty ; and promise " to make them joyful in his house 

of prayer !' This should more sensibly affect our hearts, than 

the most curious arrangement of stones can delight our eyes. 

Nay, the everlasting God does not disdain to dwell in our 
souls by his Holy Spirit ; and to make even our bodies his 
temple. Tell me, ye that frame critical judgments, and ba- 
lance nicely the distinction of things " is this most astonishing, 

or most rejoicing ?"- He humbleth himself, as the scriptures 

assure us, even to behold the things that are in heaven *. It 
is a most condescending favor, if HE pleases to take the least 
approving notice of angels and archangels, when they bow 
down in homage from their celestial thrones. Will he then 
graciously regard, will he be united most intimately united to 
poor, polluted, breathing dust? — Unparalleled honor 1 Invalu- 
able privilege ! Be this my portion, and I shall not covet 
crowns, nor envy conqueror?. 

But. let me remember, what a sanctity of disposition and 
uprightness of conversation, so exalted a relation demands : 

remember this, " and rejoice with trembling." -Durst I 

commit any iniquity, while I tread these hallowed courts ? 
Could the Jewish high priest allow himself in any known 
transgression, while he made that solemn yearly entrance into 
the holy of holies, and stood before the immediate presence of 
JEHOVAH ? No, truly, in such circumstances, a thinking 
person must shudder at the most remote solicitation, to any 
wilful offence. I should now be shocked at the least indecen- 
cy of behavior, and am apprehensive of every appearance of 
evil. — And why do we not carry this holy jealousy into all our 
ordinary life ? Why do we not, in every place, reverence our- 
selves; as persons dedicated to the Divinity, as living temples 
cf the Godhead ? For, if we are real, and not merely nominal 
christians, the God of glory, according to his own promise, 
divells in us, and walks in us.-f — O ! that this one doctrine of 
our religion might operate with an abiding efficacy upon our 
consciences ! It would be instead of a thousand laws to re- 
gulate our conduct ; instead of a thousand motives, to quick- 
en us in holiness. Under the influence of such a convic- 
tion, we should study to maintain a purity of intention ; a dig- 
nit v of action ; and to walk worthy of that transcendantly ma- 
jestic Being, who admits us to a fellowship with himself, and 
with his Son Jesus Christ. 

The next thing which engaged my attention, was the letter- 
ed floor. The pavement was somewhat like EzekiaTs roll, 
was written over from one end to the other. I soon perceived 
the comparison to hold good in another respect, and the inscrip- 
tions to be matter of «* mourning lamentation, and zvce.X" 

* Psal. cxiii. 6. t 2 Cor. \i\ 16. $ Ezek ix. 10, 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 19 

They seemed to court my observation ; silently inviting me to 
read them.. And what would these dumb monitors inform me 
of? " That, beneath their little circumferences, were deposited 
" such and such pieces of clay, which once lived, and moved, 
" and talked : That they had received a charge to preserve 
" their names and were the remaining trustees of their 
" memory." 

Ah, said I, is such my situation ! .the adorable Creator around 
me, and the bones of my fellow-creatures under me! Surely, 
then, I have great reason to cry out, with the revering patri- 
arch, How dreadful is this place 1* Seriousness and devotion 
become this house for ever. May I never enter it lightly or.ir- 
reverently ; but with a profound awe and godly fear ! 

O ! that they were wise !\ said the inspired penman. It was 
his last wish for his dear people. He breathed it out, and gave 
up the ghost. — -But what is wisdom ? It consists not in refined 
speculations, accurate researches into nature, or an universal 
acquaintance with history. The divine lawgiver settles this 
important point, in his next aspiration : O ! that they under- 
stood this ! that they had right apprehensions of their spiritual 
interests, and eternal concerns ! that they had eyes to discern, 
and inclinations to pursue the things which belong to their 
peace ! — But how shall they attain this valuable knowledge ? I 
send them not, adds the illustrious teacher, to turn over all the 
volumes of literatuie : they may acquire, and much more ex- 
peditiously, this science of life, by considering their latter end. 
This spark of heaven is often lost under the glitter of pompous 
erudition ; but shines clearly in the gloomy mansions of the 
tomb. Drowned is this gentle whisper amidst the noise of 
secular affairs ; but speaks distinctly in the retirements of se- 
rious contemplation. Behold ! how providentially I am 

brought to the school of wisdom ! X The grave is the most faith- 
ful master ;§ and these instances of mortality the most instruc- 
tive lessons. — Come, then, calm attention, and compose my 
thoughts; come, thou celestial Spirit, and enlighten my mind ; 
that I may so peruse these awful pages, as to become " wise 
unto salvation." 

Examining the records of mortality, I found the memorials 

* Gen. xxviii. 17. f Deut. xxxii. 29. 

| The man how wise, who, sick of gaudy scenes, 
Is led by choice to take his fav'rite walk 
Beneath death's gloomy, silent, cypress shades, 
Unpierc'd by vanity's fantastic ray ! 
To read his monuments, to weigh his dust. 
Visit his vaults, and dwell among the tombs. 

Night Thoughts, 

§ Wait the great teacher Death, Pope, 



20 MEDITATIONS 

of a promiscuous multitude.* They were huddled, at least 
they rested together, without any regard to rank or seniority. 
Kane were ambitious of the uppermost rooms, or chief seats, 
in this house of mourning. None entertained fond and eager 
expectations of being honorably greeted in their darksome ceils. 
The man of years and experience, reputed as an orcle in his 
generation, was content to lie down at the feet of a babe. In 
this house appointed for all living the servant was equally ac- 
commodated, and lodged in the same story with his master. 
The poor indigent lay as softly and slept as soundly, as the 
most opulent possessor . All the distinction that subsisted, was 
a grassy hillock, bound with osiers ; or a sepulchral stone, or- 
namented with imagery. 

Why then, said my working thoughts, O ! why should we 
raise such a mighty stir about superiority and precedence, when 
the next remove will reduce us all to a state of equal meanness ? 
Why should we exalt ourselves, or debase others ; since we 
must all one day, be upon a common level and blended toge- 
ther in the same undistinguished dust? O ! that this considera- 
tion might humble my own, and Dthers pride: and sink our 
imaginations as low, as our habitation will shortly be. 

Among these confused reiicks of humanity, there are with- 
out doubt, persons of contrary interests, and contradicting sen- 
timents. But death, like some able days-man, has laid his 
hands on the contending parties ; and brought all their differ- 
ences to an amicable conclusion, f Here enemies, sworn ene- 
mies, dwell together in unity. They drop every imbittered 
thought, and forget that they once were foes. Perhaps, their 
crumbling bones mix as they moulder ; and those who, while 
they lived, stood aloof in irreconcileable variance, here fall in- 
to mutual embraces, and even incorporate with each other in 
the grave: — O ! that we might learn from these friendly ashes, 
not to perpetuate the memory of injuries ; nor to foment the 
fever of resentment, nor cherish the turbulence of passion : that 
there may fte as little animosity and disagreement in the 
land of the living as there is in the congregation of the dead I — 
But I suspend for a while such general observations, and ad- 
dress myself to a more particular inquiry. 

Yonder white stone, emblem of the innocence it covers, in- 
forms the beholder of one, who breathed out its tender sou], 
almost in the instant of receiving it. — There, the peaceful in- 
fant, without so much as knowing what labor and vexation 
mean, " lies still and is quiet, it sleeps and is at rest."'! Stay- 

* Mista senum ac juvenum denfantur funera. Hor. 

| Hi rnotus ammorum, at que lasec certamina tanta 

Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescent. Virg. 

$ Job iii. 13. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 21 

ing only to wash away its native impurity in the Javer of rege- 
neration, it bid a speedy adieu to time, and terrestrial things. 
— What did the little hasty sojourner find so forbidding and 
disgusting in our upper world to occasion its precepitate exit? 
It is written, indeed, of its suffering Saviour, that when he 
had lasted the vinegar mingled with gall, he would not drink.* 
And did our new-come stranger begin to sip the cup of life ; but 
perceiving the bitterness, turn away its head, and refuse the 
draught f Was this the cause why the weary babe only opened 
its eyes, just looked on the light, and then withdrew into the 
more inviting regions of undisturbed repose ? 

Happy voyager ! no sooner launched than arrived at the 
haven !f But more eminently happy they, who have passed 
the waves, and weathered all the storms, of a troublesome and 
dangerous world ! who, " thro' many tribulations have enter- 
ed into the kingdom of heaven ; w and thereby brought honour 
to their divine convoy, administered comfort to the companions 
of their toil, and left an instructive example to succeeding pil- 
grims. 

Highly favoured probationer ! accepted without being exer- 
cised ! — It was thy peculiar privilege, not to feel the slightest of 
those evils which oppress thy surviving kindred ; which fre- 
quently fetch groans, from the most manly fortitude, or most 
elevated faith. The arrows of calamity, barbed with anguish, 
are often fixed deep in our choicest comforts. The fiery darts 
of temptation, shot from the hand of hell, are always flying in 
showers around our integrity. To thee, sweet babe, both these 
distresser and dangers were alike unknown. 

Consider this, ye mourning parents, and dry up your tears. 
Why should you lament that your little ones are crowned with 
victory, before the sword was drawn, or the conflict begun !- — 
Perhaps the supreme disposer of events foresaw some inevitable 
snare of temptation forming, or some dreadful storm of adver- 
sity impending. And why should you be so dissatisfied with 
that kind precaution, which housed your pleasant plant, and 
removed into shelter a tender flower, before the thunders roar- 
ed : before the lightnings flew ; before the tempest poured 
its rage ! — — O remember ! they are not lost, but taken away 
from the evil to come.% 

At the same time, let survivors, doomed to bear the heat, and 
burthen of the day, for their encouragement reflect,— That 

* Matth. xxvii. 34. 
■j* Happy the babe, who privileged by fate 
To shorter labour, and a lighter weight, 
lieceiv'd but yesterday the gift of breath, 
Order'd to-morrow to return to death. Prior's Sol. 

\ Isa. ixvii. 1. 



22 MEDITATIONS 

it is more honourable to have entered the lists, and to have 
fought the good fight, before they come off conquerors. They 
who have bore the cross, and submitted to afflictive providences^ 
with a cheerful resignation, have girded up the loins of their 
mind, and performed their master's will with an honest and 
persevering fidelity : — These having glorified their Redeemer 
on earth, will probably, be as stars of the Jirst magnitude in 
heaven. They will shine with brighter beams, be replenished 
with strongerjoyS, in their Lord's everlasting kingdom. 

Here lies the grief of a fond mother, and the blasted expec- 
tation of an indulgent father. The youth grew up, like a 

well watered plant ; he shot deep, rose high, and bade fair to 
manhood. But just as the cedar began to tower, and promised 
ere long, to be the pride of the wood, and prince among the 
neighbouring trees— behold ! the ax is laid unto the root, the 
fatal blow struck : and all its branching honours tumble to the* 

dust. And did he fall alone ? No : the hopes of his father 

that begat him, and the pleasing prospects of her that bare 
him, fell, and were crushed together with him. 

Doubtless it would have pierced one's heart, to have beheld 
the tender parents following the breathless youth to his long 
home. Perhaps drowned in tears, and all overwhelmed with 

sorrows, they stood like weeping statues on this very spot. 

Met h inks, I see the deeply-distressed mourners attending the 
sad solemnity. How they wring their hands, and pour floods 
from their eyes !— — Is it fancy ? or do I really hear the pas- 
sionate mother, in an agony of affliction, taking her final leave 
of the darling of her soul ? Dumb she remained, while the 
awful obsequies were performing ; dumb with grief, and 
leaning upon the partner of her woes. But now the inward 
anguish struggles for vent ; it grows too big to be repressed. 
She advances to the brink of the grave. All her soul is in 
her eyes. She fastens one more look upon the dear doleful 
object, before the pit shuts its mouth upon him. And as she 
looks, she cries; — in broken accents, interrupted by many a 
rising sob, she cries, " Farewell, my son ! my son ! my only 
beloved! would to God I had died for thee! Farewell, my 
child ! and farewell all earthly happiness ! — 1 shall nevermore 
see good in the land of the living. — Attempt not to comfort me. 
— I will go mourning all my days, till my grey hairs come 
down, with sorrow to the grave." 

From this affecting representation, let parents be convinced,. 
how highly it concerns them to cultivate the morals, and se- 
cure the immortal interests of their children. -If you really 

love the offspring of your bodies ; if your bowels yearn over 
those amiable pledges of conjugal endearment ; spare no pains ; 
give all diligence, I entreat you, " to bring them up in the 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 23 

nurture and admonition of the Lord." Then may you have 
joy in this life, or consolation in their death. If their span Js 
prolonged ; their unblameable and useful conduct will be the 
staff ot v yoiir age, and a balm for declining nature, Or, if the 
number of their years be cut off in the midst, you may commit 
their remains, to" the dust, with much the same comfortable ex- 
pectations, and with infinitely more exalted views, than you 
Send the survivors to places of genteel education. You may 
commit them to the dust, with cheering hopes of receiving 
them again to your arms, inexpressibly improved in every no- 
ble and endearing accomplishment. 

It is certainly a severe tried : and much more afflictive, than 
I am able to imagine ; to resign a lovely blooming creature* 
sprung from your own loins, to the gloomy recesses of corrup- 
tion. Thus to resign him, after having been long dandled up- 
on your knees ; united to your affections by a thousand ties of 
tenderness; and now become both the delight of your eyes, 
and the support of your family ! To have such a one torn from 
your bosom, and thrown into darkness ; doubtless, it must be 
like a dagger in your hearts. — But O ! how much more cut- 
ting to you, and confounding to the child, to have the soul se- 
parated from God ; and, for shameful ignorance and early 
impiety, transmitted to places of eternal torment ! How would 
It aggravate your distress, and add a distracting emphasis to ail 
your sighs, if you follow the corpse with these bitter reflec- 
tions f- — ~-" This dear creature, though long ago capable of 
knowing good from evil, is gone out of the world, before it had 
learned the great design of corning into it. A short-lived mo- 
mentary existence it received from me ; but no good instruc- 
tions, no holy admonitions, nothing to further its well-being 
in that everlasting state, upon which it is now entered. The 
poor body is consigned to the coffin, and carried out, to con- 
sume away in the cold and sjlent grave. And what reason 
have I to suppose, that the precious soul is in a better condi- 
tion ? May [ not justly fear, that, sentenced by the righteous 
judge, it is going, or gone away, into the pains of endless pu- 
nishment? — Perhaps while I am bewailing its untimely depar- 
ture, it may be cursing, in outer darkness, that ever to be de- 
plored, that most calamitous day, when it was born of such a 
careless, ungodly parent, as 1 have been." 

Nothing, I think, but the gnawiugsof that worm which ne- 
ver dies, can equal the anguish of these self-condemning 
thoughts. The tortures of a rack must be an easy suffering, 

compared with the stings and horror of such a remorse. 

How earnestly do I wish that as many as are entrusted with the 
management of children, would take timely care to prevent 
these m tolerable scourges of conscience; by endeavouring to 



24 MEDITATIONS 

conduct their minds into an early knowledge of Christ, and a 
cordial love of his truth ! 

On this hand is lodged one, whose sepulchral stone tells a 
most pitiable tale indeed ! Well may the little images reclined 
over the sleeping ashes, hang down their heads with that pen- 
sive air. None can consider so mournful a story, without 
feeling some touches of sympathizing concern. His age twen- 
ty-eight ; his death sudden ; himself cut down in the prime of 
life, amidst all the vivacity and vigour of manhood ; while 
" his breasts were full of milk,, and his bones moistened with 
marrow." Probably, he entertained no apprehensions of the 
evil hour. And indeed, who could have suspected, that so 
bright a sun should go down at nooa ? To human appearance, 
his hill stood strong. Length of days seemed written in his 
sanguine countenance. He solaced himself with the prospect 
of a long, long series /of earthly satisfactions. When lo ! an 
unexpected stroke descends ! descends from that mighty arm, 
which, " overturneth the mountains by their roots ; and crush- 
es the imaginary hero, before the 'moth;*" as quickly, and 
more easily than our fingers press such a feeble fluttering insect 
to death. 

Perhaps the nuptial joys were all he thought on. — Were not 
such the breathings of his enamoured souf? " Yet a very little 
while, and I shall possess the utmost of my wishes. I shall 
call my charmer mine ; and, in her, enjoy whatever my heart 

can crave." [n the midst of such enchanting views, had 

some faithful friend but softly reminded him of an opening 
grave, and the end of all tilings, how unseasonable would we 
have reckoned the admonition ! Yet, though all warm with 
life, and rich in visionary bliss, he was even then tottering up- 
on the brink of both. — Dreadful vicissitude i to have the bridal 



* y<>b iv. 9. Ad Inst ar atfmodum tinea • I retain this imer- 
pretatisn, both as it is most suitable to' my purpose, and as it is 
patronized by some eminent commentators, especially the cele- 
brated Schultens. Though I cannot but give the preference to 
the opinion of a judicious friend, who would render tke '-pas- 
sage more literally, before the face of a moth ; making it to re- 
present a creature so exceedingly frail, that even a m<" tli, fly- 
ing- against it, may dash it to pieces. — Which, besides its closer 
correspondence with the exact import of the Hebrew, presents 
us with a much finer iroage of the most extreme imbecility. 
For it certainly implies a far greater degree of weakness, to be 
crushed by the feeble flutter of the feeblest creature, than only 
to be crushed as easily as that creature, by the hand of man -— 
The French version is very expressive and beautiful i a la ft* 
contre dun vermis* eau, 



AMONG THE TOMBS, % 5 

festivity turned into the funeral solemnity !* Deploreable 
misfortune ! to be ship-wrecked in the very haven ! and to pe- 
rish even in the sight of happiness ! What a memorable 

proof is here of the frailty of man, in his best estate! Look, 
O look on this monument, ye gay and careless ! Attend to this 
date, and boast no more of to-morrow. 

Who can tell, but the bride-maids , girded with giadne?-, 
had prepared the marriage-bed ? had decked it with the rich- 
est covers, and dressed it in pillows of down ? When — Oh! 
trust not in youth, or strength, or in any thing mortal ; for 
there is nothing certain, nothing to be depended on, beneath^ 
. the unchangeable God :— Death, relentness death, is making 
him another kind of bed in the dust of the earth. L T nto this 
he must be conveyed, not with a splendid procession of joyous 
attendants; but stretched out on the gloomy hearse and follow- 
ed by a train of mourners. On this he must take up a lonely 
lodging — nor ever be released " till the heavens are no more/' 
—In- vain does the consenting fair- one put on her ornaments, 
and expect her spouse. Did she not, like Sisera's mother, 
look out of the lattice, chide the delays of her beloved : and 
wonder " why his chariot was so long in coming!" — Little 
thinking that the intended bride-groom had for ever done with 
transient things ! that now everlasting cares employ his mind, 

"without one single remembrance of his lovely Lucinda ! ■ 

Go, disappointed virgin ! go, mourn the uncertainty of all 
created bliss ! Teach thy soul to aspire after a sure and immu- 
table felicity ! for the once gay and gallant Fidelio sleeps in 
other embraces ; even in the icy arms of death! Forgetful, 
eternally forgetful of the world — and thee. 

Hitherto, one is tempted to exclaim against the king of ter- 
rors, and call him capriciously cruel He seems, by begin- 
ning at the wrong end of the register, to have inverted the laws 
of nature. Passing over the couch of decripid age, he has 
nipped infancy in its bud ; blasted youth in its bloom ; and 
torn up manhood in its full maturity, — —Terrible indeed are 
these providences, yet not unsearchable the couiisils ; 
For us they sicken, and for us they dief. 

* A distress of this kind is painted in a very affecting- co- 
lour by Pliny, in an epistle to Mareellinus *• O triste plant ac 
humqucfumus / O morte ipsa mortis tempus inatgnius / ^fam des- 
tinata erat egregio juveni ; jam electus nuptivrurn dies ; jam nos 
advocati. (ghiod guadium quo marore muiatum est I Nan possum 
cxprimere verbis , quantumanimo wulnus acxeperim, qunni audivi 
fundqnum ipsutn (ut mult a luciuosa dolar inHieniij prcsstpienitm 9 
ouod in testes, margao ritas, gcmn&'i Jatrat ercgaturus, hoc in 
?, 1ST unguent a 1 i3> odres impende/cur. P. in. lio. V. epist. 26, 
f Night Thoughts. 

c 



26 MEDITATIONS 

Sue!) strokes must not only grieve the relative?, but surprise 

the whole neighbourhood. They sound a powerful alarm 

to heedless dreaming mortals, and are intended as a remedy 
tor our carnal security. Such passing bells inculcate loudly 
our Lord's admonition; " take ye heed, watch, and pray ; 
for ye know not when the time is." We nod, like intoxi- 
cated creatures, upon the very verge of a tremenduous precipice. 
These astonishing dispensations are the kind messengers of Hea- 
ven ; to rouse us from our sapineness, and quicken us into time- 
ly circumspection. I need not, surely, accommodate them with 
language, nor act as their interpreter. Let every one's con- 
science be awake, and this will appear their awful meaning : 
— — " O i ye sons of men, in the midst of life you are in death. 
No state, no circumstances, can ascertain your preservation a 
single moment. So strong is the tyrant's arm, that nothing 
can resist its force ; so true his aim, that nothing can elude 
the blow. Sudden as lightning, sometimes, is his arrow launch- 
ed : and wounds, and kills in the twinkling of an eye. Never 
promise yourselves safety in any expedient, but constant prepa- 
ration. The fatal shafts fly so promiscuously, that none can 
guess the next victim. Therefore, be ye always ready ; for in 
such an hour as ye think not, the iinal summons comet h." 

Be ye always ready : for in such an hour as you think not 

Important admonition ! Methinks, it reverberates from 

sepulchre to sepulchre : and addresses me with line upon line, 
precept upon precept. — The reiterated warning, 1 acknowledge 
is too needful; may co-operating grace render it effectual \ 
The momentous truth, though worthy to be engraved on the 
tables of a most tenacious memory, is but slightly sketched on 
the transient flow of passion. We see our neighbours fall : we 
turn pale at the shock ; and feel, perhaps, a trembling dread. 
No sooner are they removed from our sight, but> driven in the 
whirl of business, or lulled into the langours of pleasure, we 
forget the providence, and neglect its errand. The impi esion 
made on our unstable minds, is like the trace of an arrow, 
through the penetrated air ; or the path of a keel, in the fur- 
row'd wave. — Strange stupidity ! to cure it, another monitor 
bespeaks me, from a neighbouring stone. It contains the nar- : 
raiiveof an unhappy mortal, snatched from his friends, and 
hurried to the awful bar ; without leisure, either to take a last 
farewell of the one, or to put up so much as a single prayer 
preparatory to the other : killed, according to the usual ex- 
pression, by a sudden stroke of casualty. 

Was it then a random stroke ? Doubtless, the blow came 
from an aiming, though invisible hand. Gob presideth over 
the armies of heaven ; Goivruleth among the inhabitants of 
the earth ; and Utod conducteth what men call chaiide 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 27 

Nothing, nothing comes to pass through a blind and undis- 
cerning fatality. If accidents happen, they happen according 
to the exact fore knowledge, and conformably to the determi- 
nate, counsels of Eternal Wisdom. The Lord, with whom 
are the issues of death, signs the tvarrant, and gives the high 
commission. The seemingly fortuitous disaster is only the 
agent of the instrument* appointed to execute the supreme de- 
cree. When the king of Israel was mortally wounded, it 
seemed to be a casual shot. A certain man dreiv a boio at a 

venture.* —At a venture, as he thought. But his hand was 

strengthened by an omnipotent aid, and the shaft levelled by 
an unerring eye, So that what we term casualty, is ready 
providence accomplishing deliberate designs, but conceal- 
ing its own interposition. How comforting this reflection S 

admirably adapted to soothe the throbbing anguish of the 
mourners, and compose these spirits into a quiet submission ! 
Excellently suited, to dissipate the fears of godly survivors, 
and create a calm intrepidity even amidst innumerable perils 1 

How thin is the partition between this world and another ! 
How short the transition from time to eternity ! The partition, 
nothing more than the breath in our nostrils ; and the transi- 
tion may be made in the twinkling of an eye. Poor Clive* 

milus, I remember, arose from the diversion of a card U'$le, 

and dropt into the dwellings of darkness. -One night, Co- 

rinna was all gaiety in her spirits, all fineiy in her apparel, at 
a "magnificent balk The next night, she lay pale and stiif, an 
extended corpse, and ready to be mingled with the, moulder- 
ing dead; Young Aiiicus lived to see his ample and com- 
modious seat compleated ; but not to spend one joyous hour 
under the stately roof. The sashes were hung to admit the 
day ; but the master's eyes were closed in endless night. The 
apartments were furnished to invite society, or administer re- 
pose ; but their lord rests in the lower puts of the earth, in 
the solitary, silent chambers of the tomb. The gardens were 
planned, and a thousand elegant decorations designed; but 
alas.' their intended possessor is gone down to " the place of 
skulls ;" is gone down to the valley of the shadow of death. 

While I am recollecting, many, I question not, are experi- 
encing the same tragical vicissitude. The eyes of that sub- 
lime Being— who sits upon the circle of the earth, and views 
all its inhabitants with one comprehensive .glance — even now, 
beholds many tents in affliction. Stich afflictions as over- 
whelmed the Egyptians in that fatal night, when the destroy- 
ing angel sheathed his arrows in ail the pride of their strength. 
—Some, sinking to the floor from their easy chair ; and deaf 
even amidst the piercing shrieks of their distracted relations. 
* Kings xxii. 31. 



2S MEDITATIONS 

Some giving up the ghost as they sit retired, or lie re- 
clined, under the shady arbour, to taste the sweets of the flow- 
ery scene. — Some, as they sail associated with parties of plea- 
sure, along the dancing stream, and through the laughing 
meads. Nor is the grim intruder mollified, though wine and 
music flow around. Some intercepted, as they are return- 
ing home ; and some interrupted, as they enter upon an im- 
portant negociation.- Some arrested, with the gain of in- 
justice in their hands; and some surprised, in the very act of 
lewdness, or the attempt of cruelty. 

Legions, legions of disasters, such as no prudence can fore- : 
see, and no care prevent, lie in wait to accomplish our doom. 
A starting horse may throw his rider; may at once dash his 
body against the stones, and fling his soul into the invisible 
world. A Stack of ctemiiGs may tumble into tfee streets, and 
crusn tile unwary passenger under the ruins. Even a single 
tile dropping from the roof, may be as fatal as the fall of the 

whole structure. So frail, so very attenuated is the thread 

of life, that it not only bursts before the storm, but breaks even 
at a breeze. The most common occurrences, those from which 
we suspect not the least harm, may prove the weapons of our 
destruction. A grape-stone, a despicable fly, may be more 

inorial than Goliath, with all his formidable armour. Nay, 

if God give command, our very comforts become killing. The 
air we breathe, is our bane; and the food we eat, the vehicle 

of death.- That last enemy has unnumbered avenues for his 

approach; yea, lies entrenched in our very bosoms, and holds 
his fortress in the seat of our life. The crimson fluid, which 
distributes health, is impregnated with the seeds of death. 
Heat may inflame it, or toil oppress it, and mdke it destroy 
the parts it was designed to cherish. Some unseen impediment 
may obstruct its passage, or some unknown violence may di- 
vert its course ; in either of such cases, it acts the part of a poi- 
sonous draught, or a deadly stab. 

Ah ! In what perils is vain life engaged ? 

What slight neglects, what trivial faults destroy 

The hardiest frame ! Of indolence, of toil 

We die ; of want, of superfluity. 

The all-surrounding heav'n, the vital air, 

Is big with death. 
Since then weave so liable to be dispossessed of this earthly 
tabernacle, let us look only upon ourselves as tenants at ivill, 
and hold our elves in perpetual readiness, to depart at a mo- 
ment's warning; Without such an habitual readiness* we are 
like wretches thai bleep on the top of a mast, while a he 
gulph yawns, or furious waves rage, below. And wlwri 
be the peace, what the satisfaction, of such a state ?- Whereas, 



AMONG THE TOMBS. r.9 

a prepared condition will inspire a cheerfulness of temper, not 
to be dismayed by any alarming accident ; and create a firm- 
ness of mind, not to be overthrown by the most threatening 
dangers. When the city is fortified wkh walls, famished with 
provision, guarded by able and resolute troops ; what have the 
inhabitants to fear? what .may they not enjoy ? So, just so, or 
rather by a much surer band, are connected the real taste of 
life, and the constant thought of death. 

I said, our very comforts may become killing, And see the 
truth inscribed by the hand, sealed with the signet of fate, 
The marble, which graces yonder pillar, informs me, that near 
it, are deposited the remains of Sophronza ; the much lamented 
Sophronia, who died in child-bed. How often does this ca- 
lamity happen! The branch shoots ; but the stem withers. 
The babe springs to light ; but she that bare him, breathes her 
last. She gives life, but gives it (O pitiable consideration !') 
at the expenceof her own ; and becomes at once a mother and 
a corpse,-— -Or else, perhaps, she expires in severe pangs, and 
is herself a tomb for her infant ; while the melancholy com- 
plaint of a monarch's woe, is the epitaph for them both : The 
children are come to the birth, and there is not strength to 

bring forth .* Less to be lamented, in my opinion, this 

misfortune than the other. Better for the tender stranger to be 
stopped in the porch, than to enter only to converse with af- 
fliction. Better to find a grave in the womb, than be exposed 
on a hazardous world, without the guardian of its infantile 
years, without the faithful guide of its youth. 

This monument is distinguished by its finer materials, and 
more delicate appendages. It seems to have taken its model 
from an affluent hand ; directed by a generous heart ; which 
thought it could never do enough for the deceased.— It seem?, 
also, to exhibit an emblematical picture ofSaphronia\ person 
and accomplishments. Is her beauty, or, what is more than 
beauty, her white-rob'd innocence, represented by the snowy 
colour f The surface smoothly polished, like her amiable tem- 
per, and engaging manners. The xvhote elegantly adorn- 
ed, in a well-judged medium, between extravagant pomp, 
and sordid negligence ; like her undissembled goodness, re- 
mote from the least ostentation, yet in all points exemplary.-— 
But, ah ! how vain were all these endearing charms ! how 
vain the lustre of thy sprightly eye ; how vain, the bloom of 
thy bridal youth ! how vain, the honours of thy superior birch ! 
how unable to secure the lovely possessor from the savage vio- 
lence of death ! — How ineffectual, the universal esteem of thy 
acquaintance; the fondness of thy transported husband ; or 
even the spotless integrity of thy character; to prolong thy 
* Isa- xxxvii. 3. 
C 2 



3© MEDITATIONS 

span, or procure thee a short reprieve ! — The concurrence of 
all these circumstances, reminds me of those beautiful and ten- 
der hues : 

How lov'd, how valu'd once, avails thee not; 
To whom related, or by whom begot. 
A heap of dust alone remains of thee ". 

•Tis all thou art ! and all the PROUD shall be.* 

Pope's Miscel 

* These verses are inscribed on a small, but elegant monu- 
ment, lately erected in the great church at Northampton ; which 
in the hieroglyphical decorations corresponds with the descrip- 
tions introduced above : In this circumstance particularly, that 
it is dedicated to the memory of an amiable woman, Mrs. 
ANNE STONEHOUSE, the excellent wife of my worthy 
friend Dr. STONE MOUSE 4 who has seen all the powers of 
that healing art, to which I and so many others, have been 
greatly indebted, failing in their attempts to preserve a life 
dearer to him than his own. 

Nee prttsunt domini, quae prosunt omnibus artes. 

No longer his all-healing art avails ; 

But every remedy its master fails : 
In the midst of this tender distress, he had sought some kind 
of consolation, even from the sepulchral marble; by teaching 
it to speak, at once, his esteem for her memory; and his ve- 
neration for that religion, which she so eminently adorned. 
Nor could thj'S be more significantly done, than by summing up 
her character,, in that concise, but comprehensive sentence, a 
SINCERE CHRISTIAN. Concise enough to be the motto 
ior a mourning ring » yet as comprehensive, as the most en- 
larged sphere of personal, social, and religious worth. For, 
whatsoever things are of good r report ; are they not concluded 
in that grand and noble aggregate ; A sincere Christian ? 

The first lines, considered in such a connection, are won- 
derfully plaintive and pathetic. 

How lov'd, how valu'd once, avails thee not ; 

To whom related, or by whom begot. 
They sound, at least, in my ears, like the voice of sorrow 
tmngied with admiration. The speaker seems to have been 
lost for a while, in melancholy contemplation ; suddenly breaks 
out into this abrupt encomium ; then melts into tears, and can 
proceed no farther. Yet, in this case, how eloquent is silence ! 
While it hints the universal esteem which attended, and the 
superiority of birth which distinguished the df ceased wife ; it 
expresses, beyond all the pomp of words-, the yearning affec- 
tion, of the surviving husband. — Amidst the group of monu- 
mental marbles, which are lavish of their panegyric ; this, I 
think, resembles the incomparable address of the painter, who, 
having placed round the beautiful expiring virgin ; her friends 



AMONG THE TOMBS. SI 

Yet, though unable to divert the stroke, Christianity is so- 
vereign to pluck out the sting of death. Is not this the silent 
language of those lamps which burn, and of that heart which 
flames ; of those palms which flourish, and of that civwn winch 
glitters in the well imitated and gilded marble ? Do they not, 
to the discerning eye, describe the vigilence of her faith ; the 
fervency of her devotion : her victory over the world ; and the 
celestial diadem, which the Lord, the iighteous Judge, shall 
give her at that day ?* 

How happy the husband in such a sharer of his bed, and 
partner of his fortunes 1 Their inclinations were nicely turned 

in all the agonies of grief, represented the unequalled anguish 
of the father with far greater liveliness and strength, or rather 
with an inexpressible emphasis, by drawing a veil over his face. 
If the last lines are a wide departure from the beaten track 
of our modern epitaphs, and. the very reverse of their high- 
flown compliments, 

A heap of dust alone remains of thee ! 

'Tis all thou art and all the PROUD shall be ! 
they are not without a precedent, and one of the most consum- 
mate kind. §mce they breathe the very spirit of that sacred 
e l e gy> in which all the heart of the hero and the friend seems 
to be dissolved ; How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of 

war perished ! 2 Sam. i. 27. They remind the reader of that 

awful lesson, which was originally dictated by the Supreme 
Wisdom ; Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return. Gen. 
iii. 19. They inculcate, with all the force of the most con- 
vincing evidence, that solemn admonition, delivered by the 
prophet ; Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils : Jor 
wherein is HE to be accounted of ? Isa. ii. 22. 

That no reader, however ^attentive, might mistake the 
sense and design of this part ojr the fourth line, 
'Tis ALL thou art! 

it is guarded above and beneath. Above, is an expanded 

book, that seems to be waved, with an air of triumph, over 
the emblem of death : which we cannot but suppose to be the 
volume of inspiration, as it exhibits a sort of abridgement of its 
whole contents, in those animated words; Me ye not slothful, 
hutfollowers of them, who through faith and patience inherit the 

promises. Heb. vi. 12. Beneath, that every part might be 

pregnant with jnstiuction, are those striking reflections ; wor- 
thy the consideration of the highest proficient in knowledge and 
piety, yet obvi/?,Uf ft/? the understanding of the most untaught 
reader ; Life huw short ! Eternity how long ! — ■ — May my soul 
learn the forcible purport of this useful lesson, in her contracted 
span of time! and all eternity will not be too long, to rejoice 
in having learned it. 

* 2 Tim. iv. 8. 



32 MEDITATIONS , 

unisons, and all their conversation was harmony. How silken 
the yoke to such a pair, and what blessings were twisted with 
such bands! Every joy was heightened, and every care alevi- 
ated. Nothing seemed wanting to consulate their bliss, but 
a hopeful progeny rising around them.- — -That they might 
see themselves multiplied in their little ones ; see their mingled 
graces transfused into their offspring ; and feel the glow of their 
affection augmented, by being reflected from their children. 
Si Grant us this gift, 5 ' said their united prayers, " and our sa- 
tisfactions are crowned : we request no more." 

Alas! how blind are mortals to future events! How unable 
to discern what is really good !* Give me children, said .Ra- 
chel, or else 1 die.\ An ardor of impatience, altogether un- 
becoming, and as mistaken as it was unbecoming. She dies, 
not by the disappointment, but, by the accomplishment? of her 
desire. ■ — If children are, to parents, like a flowery chap- 
let, whose beauties blossom with ornament, and whose odors 
breathe delight, death, or some fell misfortune, may find means 
to entwine themselves with the lovely wreathe. Whenever our 
souls are poured out with passionate importunity, after any in- 
ferior acquisition ; it may be truly said, in the words of our di- 
vine Master, Ye know not ivhatye ask. -Does Providence 

vith-hold the thing that we long for? It denies in mercy : and 
only with-hoids the occasion of our misery, perhaps the instru- 
ment of our ruin. With a sickly appetite, we often loath what 
is wholesome, and hanker after our bane. Where imagination 
dreams of un mingled sweets, there experience frequently finds 
the bitterness of woe. 

Therefore, lrfay we covet immoderately, neither this nor that 
form of earthly felicity ; but refer the whole of our condition* 
to the choice of unerring Wisdom. May we learn to renounce 
our own will ; and be ready to make a sacrifice of our warmest 
wishes, whenever they run counter to the good pleasure of God. 
For, indeed, as to obey his law, is to be perfectly free; so, to 
resign ourselves to his disposal, is to establish our own happi- 
ness, and to be secure from fear of evil. 

Here a small and plain stone is placed upon the ground : 
purchased, one would imagine, from the little fund, and 
formed by the hand of frugality, itself. Nothing costly ; not 
one decoration added : Only a very short inscription ; which 
is so effaced, as to be scarcely intelligible, -Was the depos- 

*' JTescia mens botninumfati, fortiaque future ! 
Itcrno tempus erit t magno cum cptaverit emptum, 
Intactuni Pall ant a ; et cum spolia ista die mquc 

Odcrit, 

r \ Gen. xxx, 1. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. S3 

itory unfaithful to its trust ! or were the letters worn by tnQ 
frequent resort of the surviving family ; to mourn over the 
grave, and revive the remembrance of a most valuable and 

beloved relative.- For I perceive, upon a closer inspection, 

that it covers the remains of a father ; a religions father^ 
snatched from his growing offspring, before they were settled 
in the world, or so much as their principles fixed by a thorough 
education. 

This, sure, is the most complicated distress, that has hither* 
to come under our consideration. The solemnities of such a 
dying chamber are some of the most melting and melancholy 

scenes imaginable.- There lies the affectionate husband ; 

the indulgent parent ; the faithful friend ; and the generous 
master. He lies in the last extremities, and on the very point 
of dissolution. Art has done its all. The raging "disease 
mocks the power of medicine. It hastens, with resistless im-,. 
petuosity, to execute his dreadful errand ; to rend asunder the 
silver cord of life, and the more delicate tie of social attach- 
ment, and conjugal affection. 

A servant or two, from a revering distance, cast many a 
wishful look, and condole their honoured master in the lan- 
guage of sighs. The condescending mildness of his com- 
mands, was wont to produce an alacrity o( obedience, and 
render their service a pleasure. Now the remembrance of both 
imbitters their grief, and makes it trickle plentifully down their 
honest cheeks.— His friends, who have so often shared his 
joys, and gladdened his mind with their enlivening converse, 
now are miserable comforters. A sympathising and mournful 
pky is all the relief they are able to contribute ; unless it be 
augmented by their silent prayers for the divine succor, and a 

word of consolation suggested from the scriptures.* Tipse 

poor innocents, the children, croud around the bed ; drowned 
in tears, and almost frantic with grief, they sob out their • 
souls, and passionately cry, te Will he leave us ? leave us in a 
helpless condition ! leave us to-an injurious world." 

These separate streams are all united in the distressed spouse, 
and overwhelm her breast with an impetuous tide of scnc 
In her the lover weeps ; the wire mourns, and all the niu 
yearns. To her, the loss is. beyond measure aggravated, by 
months, and years of delightful society, and axalted friends!:. ■ p, 

* Texts of scripture, proper for such an occasion; contain- 
ing promises- of support under affliction, Lam. in. 32. I 

xii. 6. 2 Cor. iv. 17.— -of pardon, Isa. liii. 5. Isa. i 18. 1 jpdhn 
ii. 1. 2. Acts x, 43.— of justification, Rom. v. 9. Rom. viii. 33> 
34. 2 Ohr, v. 21.— of victory over death, Psalm xxiii. 4. Psalm 
lxviii. 26. 1 Cor- xy. 56, 57.— of a hanpy resurrection-. John 
vi. 40. 2 Cor. v. 1. Rev. yii. 16, 17. * 




U MEDITATIONS 

Where, alas! can she meet with such unsuspected fidelity o? 
repose, such unreserved confidence ? Where find so discreet a 
counsellor; so improving an example; and a guardian so se- 
dulously attentive to the interests of herself, and her children? 
• See! how she hangs over the languishing bed; most ten- 
derly solicitous to prolong a life, important and desirable, far 
beyond her own ; or, if that be impracticable, no less tenderly 

officious to sooth the last agonies of her dearer self.- Her 

hands, trembling under direful apprehensions, wipe the cold 
dewsTrom the livid cheeks; and sometimes stay the sinking 

head on her bosom. See ! how she gazes with a speechless 

ardour, on the pale countenance, and meagre features.- — * 
Speechless her tongue, but she looks unutterable thi 
While all her soft passions throb with unavailing fondness, 
her very soul bleeds with exquisite anguish. 

The sufferer, all patient and adoring submits to the divine 
will; and by submission, becomes superior to his .affliction. 
He is sensibly touched with the disconsolate state of his at- 
tendants ; and pierced with an anxious concern for his wife 
and his children. His wife, who will soon be a destitute wi- 
dow; his children, who will soon be helpless orphans. " Yet, 
though cast down, not in despair." He is greatly refreshed by 
Ms trust in the everlasting covenant, and his hope of approach- 
ing glory. Religion gives a dignity to distress. At each in- 
terval of ease ; he comforts his very comforters ; and suffers 
with all the majesty of woe. 

'The soul, just going to abandon the tottering clay, collects 
all her force, and exerts her last efforts. The good man raises 
himself on his pillow ; extends a kind hand to his servants, 
which is bathed in tears ; takes an affecting farewell of his 
friends: clasps his wife in a feeble embrace ; kisses the dear 
pledges of their mutual love ; and then pours all that remains 
of life and strength, in the following words : — " I die, my dear 
children : But God, the everlasting God, will be with you.— 
Though you lose an earthly parent : you have a father in'* 
heaven, who lives for evermore.— Nothing, nothing but an un- 
believing heart, and irreligious life, can ever separate you from 
the regards of Ins providence — from the endearments of his love.'* 

He could proceed no further. His heart was full ; but ut- 
terance failed. After a short pause, prompted by affectionate 
zeal, with difficulty, great difficulty, he added: — " You, the 
deer partner of my soul, you are now the only protector of our 
orphans — I leave yow under a weight of cares. — —But Gov, 
who defendeth the cause of the widow — God, whose promises 
are famfulness and truth — God hath said, / will never leave 
thee, nor jar sake thee.* — This revives my drooping spirits— 
* Heb. xiii. 5. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 35 

let this support the wife of my bosom.-— And now, O Father of 
compassions, into thy hands I commend my spirits.— Encou- 
raged by thy promised goodness, / leave my fat her less." '-— 

Here he fainted; fell back upon his bed: and lay for some 
minutes bereft of his senses. As a taper upon the very point of 
extinction, is sometimes suddenly rekindled; and leaps into a 
quivering flame ; so life, before it totally expired, gave a parting 
struggle, and once more looked abroad from the opening 
eye-lids. — He would fain have spoke ; fain have uttered the 
sentence he began. More than once he essayed ; but the or- 
gans of speech were become like a broken vessel, and nothing 
but the obstructing phlegm rattled in his throat. His aspect, 
however, spoke affection inexpressible. With all the father, 
all the husband, still living in his looks, he takes one more 
view of those dear children, whom he had often beheld with a 
parental triumph. He turns his dying eyes on. that beloved 
tooman, whom he never beheld but with a glow of delight. 
Fixed in this posture, amidst smiles of love, and under a gleam 
of heaven, they shine out their last. 

Upon this, the silent sorrow bursts into loud laments. They 
weep, and refuse to be comforted. Till some length of time 
had given vent to the excess of passion ; and the consolations of 
religion had staunched their bleeding woes. Then the afflicted 
, family search for the sentence, which fell unfinished from those 
loved, those venerable, and pious lips. They find it recorded 
by the prophet Jeremiah, containing the direction of infinite 
Wisdom, and the promise of unbounded Goodness ; Leave thy 
fatherless children ; I will preserve them alive : and let thy v:i- 

dews trust in me * This, now, is the comfort of their lite, 

and the joy of their heart. They treasure it up in their memo- 
ries. It is the best of legacies, and an inexhaustible fund : a 
fund which will supply all their wants, by entailing the bles- 
sing of heaven on ali their honest labors.— They are rich, they 
are happy, in this sacred pledge of the divine favour. They 
fear no evil ; they want no good: because God is their por- 
tion, and their guardian God. 

No sooner turned from one memento of my own, and memo- 
rial of another's decease, but a second, a third, a long succes- 
sion of those melancholy monitors, croud upon my sight.f — 
That which has fixed my preservation> is one of a more grave 
and sable aspect, than the former. I suppose it preserves the 
relies of a mose aged person. One would conjecture, that he 
made somewhat of a figure in his station among the living, as 
his monument does among the funeral marbles. Let me draw 
near, and enquire of the stone ; " IVho or what is beneath its 
* Jerm. xlix. 11. 
f Pfyrima mortis imago. Virg. 




36 MEDITATIONS 

surface ? ,r — I am informed he was once the owner of a consider- 
-able estate ; which was much improved, by his own application 
and management: that he left the world in the busy period of 
life, advanced a little beyond the meridian. 

Probably, replied my musing mind, one of those indefati- 
gable drudges, who rise early, late take rest, and eat the bread 
of carefulness : not to secure the loving kindness of the Lord ; 
not to make provision for any reasonable necessity ; but only to 
amass together ten thousand times more than they can possibly 
use. Did he not lay schemes for enlarging his fortune, and 
aggrandizing his family ? Did not he purpose to join field to 
field, and add house to house ; till his possessions were almost 
as vast as his desires? That, then, he would sit down and en- 
joy what he had acquired ;* breathe a while, from his toilsome 
pursuit of things temporal, and perhaps, think a little of things 
eternal. 

But see the folly of worldly wisdom ! How silly, how child- 
ish is the sagacity of (what is called) manly and masterly pru- 
dence ; where it contrives more solicitously for Time, than it 
provides for Eternity ! How strangely infatuated are those sub- 
tle heads, which weary themselves in conceiting measures for 
phantoms of a day, and scarce ever bestow r a thought on ever- 
Ing realities! — When every wheel moves on smoothly; 
■a all the well-disposed designs are ripening apace for exe- 
cution ; and the long expected crisis of enjoyment seems to ap- 
proach ; behold ! God from on high laughs at the Babel-buil- 
der. Death touches the bubble, and it breaks : it drops into 
nothing. The cob-web, most finely spun indeed, but more 
easily dislodged, is swept away in an instant; and all the abor- 
tive projects are buried, in the same grave with their projector. 
So true is that verdict, which the Wisdom from above passes on 
these successful unfortunates : " They walk in a vain shadow, 
and disquiet themselves in vain,"'|- 

Speak, ye that attended such a one in his last minutes; ye 
ft at heard nis expiring sentiments; did he not cry out, in the 
language of disappointed sensuality?™" O Death! how terri- 
approach, to a man immersed in secular cares, and 
void of all concern for the never ending hereafter ! Where, 
alas ! '.s the profit, where the comfort, of entering deep in the 
knowledge, and being dexterous in the dispatch of earthly af- 
fairs ; since I have, all the while neglected the one thing need- 
Jul! Destructive mistake— I have been attentive to every in- 
ferior interest ; I have laid myself out on the trifles of a mo- 

w J£ac mcnte laborem 

Sevejsrre, senes ut in otia futa recedant, 
Aiuni, cum sibifnt zor.gesta cikaria. — Hor. • 
t Psalm xxxix. 6. 




AMONG THE TOMBS. gf 

ment; but have disregarded heaven, have forgot eternal ages ! 
— O ! that my days."— -Here he was going on to breathe some 
fruitless wishes, or to form I know not what ineffectual resolu- 
tions. But a sudden convulsion shook his nerves; disabled his 
tongue; and, in less than an hour, dissolved his frame. 

May the children of this world be warned by the dying 
words of an unhappy brother, and gather advantage from his 
misfortune. — Why should they pant, with, such impatient ar- 
dour, after zuhite and yellow earth ; as if the universe did not 
afford sufficient for every one to take a little ? Why should they 
lade themselves with thick clay, when they are to " run for an 
incorruptible crown, and press for the prize of their high call- 
ing r" Why should they overload the vessel, in which their 
everlasting all is embarked; or fill their arms with superflui- 
ties, when they are to swim for their lives?; — Yet, so preposte- 
rous is the conduct of those persons, who are all industry, to 
heap up an abundance of the wealth which perisheth ; but are 
scarce so much 'as faintly desirous, of being rich towards God. 

O ! that we may walk from henceforth thro' all these glitter- 
ing toys, at least with a wise indifference/ if not with a supe- 
rior disdain ! Having enough for. the convenience of life, let 
us only accommodate ourselves with things below, and lay up 
our treasures in the regions above. — Whereas, if we indulge an 
anxious concern, or lavish an inordinate care, on any transito- 
ry possessions ; we shall rivet them to our affections with so 
firm an union, that the utmost severity of pain must attend the 
separating stroke. By such an eager attachment, to what will 
certainty be ravished from us ; we shall only insure to ourselves 
accumulated anguish, against the agonizing hour. We shall 
plant, aiorehand, our dying pillow with thorns.* 

Some, I perceive, arrived at threescore years and ten, be- 
fore they made their exit ; nay, some resigned not their breath* 
till they had numbered fourscore revoking harvests. These, 
I would hope, " remembered their Creator in the days of their 
youth f before their strength became labour and sorrow ; be- 
fore that low ebb of languishing nature, when the keepers of 
the house tremble, and those that look out of the vjindoivs are 
darkened ;f when even the lighting down of the grasshopper 

* Lean not on earth ; 'twill pierce thee to the heart ; 
A broken reed at best, but oft a spear : 
On its sharp point Peace bleeds, and Hope expires. 

Night Thoughts, No. III. 
f Eccles. xii. 3. 5. I need not remind my reader, that, by 
the former of these figurative expressions, is signified the ener- 
vated state of the hands and arms ; by the latter, the dimness of 
the eves, or the total loss of sight: Tkat, taken in connection 

D 






38 MEDITATIONS 

is a burden on the bending shoulders, and desire itself fails in 
the listless, lethargic soul ; — before those heavy hours come, 
and those tiresome moments draw nigh, in which there is too 
much reason to say, We have no pleasure in them ; no improve- 
ment from them. 

Jf their lamps were unfurnished with oil ; how unfit must 
they be, in such decrepit circumstances, to go to the market, 
and buy !* For, besides a variety of disorders arising from the 
enfeebled constitution, their corruptions must be surprisingly 
strengthened by such a long course of irreligion. Evil habits 
must have struck the deepest root ; must have twisted them- 
selves with every fibre of the heart ; and be as thoroughly en- 
grained in the disposition, as the soot in the Ethiopian's com- 
plexion, or the spots on the leopard's skin. If such a one, 
under such disadvantages surmounts all the difficulties which 
lie in his way to glory, it must be a great and mighty salvation 
indeed. If such a one escapes destruction and is saved at the 
last : it must, without all peradventure, be — so as byfire.f 

This is the season that stands in need of comfort, and is very 
improper to enter upon a conflict. The husbandman should 
now be putting in his sickle or eating the fruit ot his labours ; 
not beginning to breakup the ground or scatter the seed. — 
Nothing it is true is impossible with God : He said. Let there 
be light, and there was light ; Instantaneous light, diffused, as 
quick as thought thro' ail the dismal dominion of primaeval 
darkness. At his command, a leprosy of the longest continu- 
ance, and the utmost inveteracy, departs in a moment. He 
can, in the greatness of his strength, quicken the wretch, who 
has lain dead in trespasses and sins, not four days only, but 

forescore years. Yet trust not, O trust not, a point of such 

inexpressible importance, to so dreadful an uncertainty. God 
may suspend his power ; may withdraw his help ; may swear 
in his wrath, that such abusersof his long suffering shall " never 
enter into his rest." 

Ye therefore, that are vigorous in health, and blooming in 
years, improve the precious opportunity. Improve your gol- 
den hours to the noblest of all purposes : such as may render 
you meet for the inheritance of saints in light : and ascertain 
your title to a share of immortal youth, to a crown of eternal 
glory. — Stand not, in the prime of your days idle ; trifle no 
longer with the offer of this immense felicity : but make haste 

■with other parts of the chapter, they exhibit, in a series of bold 
and lively raetaphors, a description of the various infirmities at- 
tendant on old age. 

* Matth. xxv. 9. t 1 Cor - "*• I 5 - 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 39 

and delay not the time to keep God's commandments.* 
While you are loitering in a gay insensibility, death may be 
bending his bow, and marking you out for speedy victims. 
Not long ago, I happened to spy a thoughtlessjoy. The poor 
bird was idly busied in dressing his pretty plumes, or hopping 
carelessly from spray to spray. A sportsman coming by, ob* 
serves the feathered roier. Immediately he lifts the tube, and 
levels his blow. Swifter than whirlwind, flies the leaden 
death ; and in a moment, lays the silly creature breathless on 
the ground. — -Such, such may be the fate of the man, who has 
a fair occasion of obtaining grace to-day and wontonly post- 
pones the improvement of it till to-morrow. He may be cut 
off in the midst of his folly ; and ruined for ever, while he is 
dreaming of being wise hereafter. 

Some, no doubt, came to this their last retreat, full of piety, 
and full of days ; " as a shock of corn, ripe with age and 
laden with plenty, conieth in, in his season. "f — These were 
children of light, and wise in their generation; wise with that 
exalted wisdom which conieth from above, and with that en- 
during wisdom which lasts to eternity. — -Rich also they were; 
more honourably and permanently rich than all the votaries of 
Mammon. The wealth of the one has made itself wings, and 
is irrecoverably gone ; while the wretched acquirers are trans- 
mitted to that place of penury and pain, where not so much as 
one drop of water is allowed to cool their scorched tongues. 
The stores of the other still abide with them ; will never de- 
part from them ; but make them glad, for ever and ever, in the 
city of their God. Their treasures were such, as no created 
power coukl take away ; such as none but infinite beneficence 

* May I be permitted to recommend, as a treasure of fine 
sentiments, and a treatise particularly apposite to my subject, 
Dr. LUCAS's inquiry after happiness? That part especially, 
which displays the method, and enumerates the advantages of 
improving life t v or living much in a little time, chap. iii. p. 158 
of the 6th. edit. — An author ; in whom the gentleman, the scho- 
lar, and the christian, are most happily united. A performance 
which, in point of solid argument, unaffected piety, and a vein 
of thought, amazing fertile, has, perhaps no superior. — Nor 
can I wish my reader a more refined pleasure, or a more sub- 
stantial happiness, than that of having the sentiments of this 
entertaining and pathetic writer, wove into the very texture 
of his heart. Unless I might be allowed to wish, that the wri- 
ter himself had interspersed the glorious peculiarities of the 
gcsfiel (on which our happiness absolutely depend) a little more 
rally through all his works. 

f Job v. 25 



40 MEDITATIONS 

can bestow ; and (comfortable to the sinner !) such as I, and 
every indigent longing sinner may obtain: treasures of heav- 
enly knowledge and saving faith: treasures of atoning blood, 
and imputed righteousness. 

Here * lie their bodies in " peaceful habitations, and quiet 
resting places." Here they have thrown off every burthen, 

* Some, I know, are offended at our burying corpses within 
the church ; and exclaim against it as a very great impropriety 
and indecency. But this, I imagine, proceeds from an excessive 
and mistaken delicacy. If proper care be taken to secure from 
injury the foundation's of the building ; and to prevent the exha- 
lation of any noxious effluvia, from the putrifying flesh ; I can- 
not discover any inconvenience attending this practice. 

The notion, that noisome carcases, (as they are called,) are 
very unbecoming a place consecrated to religious purposes, 
seems to be derived from the antiquated Jewish canon ; where- 
by it was declared, that a dead body imparted defilement to the 
person who touched it, and polluted the spot were it was lodg- 
ed. On which account the Jews were scrupulously careful to 
have their sepulchres built at a distance from their houses; and 
made it a point of conscience not to suffer burial places to sub- 
sist in the city. But as this was a rite purely ceremonial ; it 
seems to be entirely superseded by the gospel dispensation. 

1 cannot forbear thinking, that, under the christian cecono- 
my, there is a propriety and usefulness in the custom. — Useful- 
ness, because ic must render our solemn assemblies more vene- 
rable and awful. For when we walk over the dust @f our friends 
or kneel upon the ashes of our relations; this awakening cir- 
cumstance must strike a lively impression of our own mortality. 
And what consideration can be more effectual, to make us 
serious and attentive in hearing ; earnest and importunate in 
praying ? 

As for the fitness of the usage, it seems perfectly suitable to 
the design of those sacred edifices. They are set apart for God ; 
no f only to receive his worshippers, but to preserve the furni- 
ture for holy ministrations, and what is, in a peculiar manner, 
appropriated to the Divine Majesty. Are not the bodies of the 
saints the Almighty's property ? Were they not once the ob- 
jects of his tender love? Are they not still the subjects of his 
special care? Has he not given commandment concerning the 
bones of his elect ; and charged the ocean, and enjoined the 
grave, to keep them until that day ? When rocks bright with 
gems, or mountains rich with mines, are abandoned to devour- 
ing flames; shall not these be rescued from the fiery ruin ? will 
not these be translated into Jehovah's kingdom, and conjoint- 
!y%ith the soul, made " his jewels ;" made " his peculiar plea- 
sure ;" made to shine as the brightness of the firmament, and 
as the stars for ever and ever \ 



AMONG- THE TOMBS. 41 

and are escaped from every snare. The head aches no more : 
the eye forgets to weep : the flesh is no longer traced with 
acute, nor wasted with lingering distempers. Here they re- 
ceive a final release from pain, and an everlasting discharge 
from sorrow. — Here danger never threatens them with her ter- 
rifying alarms ; but tranquility softens their couch, and safety 
guards their repose. — Rest then, ye precious relics, within this 
hospitable gloom. Rest in gentle slumbers, till the last trum- 
pet shall give the welcome signal, and sound aloud through all 
your silent mansions, u Arise ; shine ; for your light is come, 
and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you."* 

To these, how calm was the evening of life ! In what a smil- 
ing serenity did their sun go down J When their flesh and 
their heart failed, how reviving was the remembrance of an 
all-sufficient Redeemer, once dying for their sins, now risen 
.again for their justification ! How cheering the well grounded 
hope of pardon for their transgressions ; and peace with God 
through Jesus Christ our Lord ! How did this assuage the 
agonies, and sweeten the bitterness of death ? Where now is 
wealth, with all her golden mountains? where is honour, and 
her proud trophies of renown ? wdiere are all the vain pomps of 
a deluded world ? Can they inspire such comfort, can they ad- 
minister any support in this last extremity ? Can they compose 

Is not Christ the LORD of our bodies ? Are they not bought 
with a price ? bought, not with eorruptable things, silver and 
gold, but with his divinely precious bloed. And if the blessed 
Jesus purchased the redemption of our bodies, at so infinitely 
dear a rate ; can it ever enter into our hearts to conceive, that 
he should dislike to have them reposed under his own habita- 
tion ? — Once more ; are not the bodies to the faithful, temples 
of the Holy Ghost? and is there not upon this supposition, an 
apparent propriety, rather than the least indecorum; in remit- 
ting these temples of flesh to the temples made with hands ? 
They are vessels of honour ; instruments of righteousness ; 
and even when broken by death, like the fragments of a gold- 
en bowl, are valuable ; are worthy to be laid up in, the safest, 
most honourable repositories. 

Upon the whole, since the Lord Jesus has purchased them 
at the expence of his blood, and the blessed spirit has honour- 
ed them with his indwelling presence ; since they are right dear 
in the sight of the adorable Trinity, and undoubted heirs of a 
glorious immortality ; why should it be thought a thing impro- 
per to admit them to a transient rest in their heavenly Father's 
house ? why may they not' lie down and sleep in the outer courts, 
since they are soon to be introduced into the inmost mansions of 
everlasting honour and joy ? 

* Isa. Ix. U 

~ D2 



42 MEDITATIONS 

the affrighted thoughts, or buoy up the departing soul, amidst 
all the pangs of dissolution ? — The followers of the Lamb seem 
pleased and triumphant, even at their last gasp, " God's ever- 
lasting arms are underneath"* their fainting heads. His spir- 
it whispers peace and consolation to their consciences, in the 
strength of these heavenly succours, they quit the field, not 
captives but conquerors ; with " hopes full of immortality." 

And now they are gone. — The struggles of reluctant nature 
are over. The body sleeps in death : the soul launches into 
the invisible state. — But who can imagine the delightful sur- 
prise, when they find themselves surrounded by guardian an- 
gels instead of weeping friends ? How securely do they wing 
their way and pass through unknown worlds, under the conduct 
of those celestial guides ! — The vale of tears is quite lost. 
Farewell, forever, the realms of woe, and range of malignant 
beings ! They arrive on the frontiers of inexpressible ye/ic^. 
" They are come to the city of the living God :" while a voice 
sweeter than music in her softest strains, sweet as the harmony 
of hymning seraphim, congratulates their arrival, and bespeaks 
their admission : Lift up your i tends, ye gates ; and be ye 
lift up, ye everlasting doors ; that the heirs of glory may en- 
ter \xi. 

Here, then, let us leave the spirits and souls of the righteous, 
escaped from art entangling wilderness, and received into ^pa- 
radise of delights ? escaped from the territories of disquietude, 
and settled in regions of unmolested security ! Here they sit 
down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of 
their father. Here they mingle with an innumerable company 
of angels, and rejoice around the throne of the Lamb, rejoice 
in the fruition of present felicity, and in the assured expecta- 
tion of an inconceivable addition to their bliss, when God 
shall call the heavens from above, and the earth, that he may 
judge his people, f 

Fools accounted their life madness, and their end to be ivilh- 
cut honour ; but they are numbered among the children of God, 

* Dent, xxxiii. 27- 
f Seneca's reflection upon the state of the holy souls, deliver- 
ed from the burden q£ the flesh, are sparkling and fine; yet ve- 
ry indistinct and enipty, compared with the particulars mention- 
ed above, and with many others that might be collected from 
scripture. In hoc tarn procelloso, ct in omnes tempestats exposito 
navigantibus mari, nullus portus nisi mortis est. Ne itaque znvia'c 
risfratri tuo; quiescit. 2andem liber, tandem tutus, tandem celer- 
nus est. Fruitur nunc aperto et libero ccclo ; ex humili et depresso, 
in eum emicuit locum, qui solutas vmculas animas beato recipit 
sinu ; et nunc omnia rerum natura bona cum summa vohiptats per- 
cipit. Sen. ad. Poiyb. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 43 

and their lot, their distinguished and eternal lot is among the 
saints.* However, therefore, an undiscerning world may des- 
pise, and a profane world vilify, the truly religious; be this the 
supreme, the invariable desire of my heart ! " Let me live the 
life, and die the death, of the righteous. Oh ! let my latter 
end, and future state, be like theirs !" 

What figure is that which strikes my eye from an eminent 
part of the wall ? It is not only placed in a more elevated situa- 
tion than the rest, but carries a more splendid and sumptuous 
air than ordinary. Swords and spears ; murdering engines, 
and instruments of slaughter ; adorn the stone with a formida- 
ble magnificence. — It. proves to be the monument of a noble 
warrior. 

Is such respect, thought I, paid to the memory of this brave 
soldier, for sacrificing his life to the public good ? — Then what 
honours, what immortal honours, are due to the great Captain 
of our salvation r who, though Lord of the angelic legions, and 
supreme commander of all the heavenly hosts, willingly offer- 
ed himself a bleeding propitiation for sinners. 

The one died being a mortal ; and only yielded up a life, 
which was long before forfeited to divine justice; which must 
soon have been surrendered as a debt to nature, if it had not 
fallen a prey to war. — But Christ took flesh, and gave up the 
ghost, though he was the great I AM ; the fountain of exist- 
ence ; who calls happiness and immortality all his own. He, 
who thought it no robbery to be equal with God ; he, whose 
outgoings were from everlasting ; even he, was made in the 
likeness of man, and cut off out of the land of the living. 
Wonder, O heavens ! Be astonished, O earth ! HE died the 
death, of whom it is witnessed, that he is "the true God, 
and eternal life."f 

The one exposed himself to peril in the service of his sove- 
reign and his country ; which, though it was glorious to do, 
yet would have been ignominious, in such circumstances, to 
have declined.— — But Christ took the field, though he was 
the blessed and only Potentate ; the Kin g of kings, and Lord 

of lords. Christ took the field, though he was sure to 

drop in the engagement ; and put on the harness, though he 
knew beforehand that it must reek with his blood. The prince 
of heaven resigned his royal person, not barely to the hazard, 
but to the inevitable stroke; to death, certain in its approach, 

and armed with all its horrors. And for zvhom ? Not for 

those who were in any degree deserving: but for his own disc* 

hedient creatures; for the pardon of condemned malefactors; 

for a band of rebels, a race of traitors, the most obnoxious and 

* Wisdom v. 4, 5. -\ John v. 20. 



44 MEDITATIONS 

inexcusable of all criminals'; whom he might have left to perish 
in their iniquities, without the least impeachment of his good- 
ness, and to the display of his avenging justice. 

The one, 'tis probable, died expeditiously ; was suddenly 
wounded, and soon slain. A bullet, lodged in his heart; a 
sword, sheathed in his breast ; or a battle-ax, cleaving the brain ; 
might put a speedy end to his misery ; dispatch him " as in a 
moment." Whereas the divine Redeemer expired in tedi- 
ous and protracted torments. His pangs were as lingering as 
they were exquisite. Even in the prelude to his last suffering, 
what a load of sorrows overwhelmed his sacred humanity ! till 
the intolerable pressure wrung blood, instead of sweat, from 
every pore ; till the crimson blood bathed his body, stained all 

his raiment, and tinged the very stones. But when the last 

scene of the tragedy commenced, when the executioner's ham- 
mer had naiied him to the cross ; O ! how many dismal hours 
did that illustrious suiferer hang ; a spectacle of woe, to God, 
to Angels, and to men ! His temples mangled with the thorny 
crown ! his hands and feet cleft with the rugged irons ! his whole 
body covered with wounds and bruises!^ and his soul, his very 

soul, pierced with pangs of unutterable distress ! So long 

he hung, that nature, through all her dominions, was thrown 
into sympathising commotions. The earth could no longer 
sustain such barbarous indignities, without trembling; nor the 
sun behold them without horror. Nay, so long did he hang 
in this extremity of torture, that the alarm reached even the 
remote regions of the dead. — Never, O my soul, never forget 
the amazing truth ? The Lamb of God was seized and bound ; 
was slaughtered with the utmost inhumanity ; and endured 
death, in all its bitterness, for thee! His murderers, stu- 
diously cruel, so guided the fatal cup ; that he tasted every drop 
of its gall, before he drank it off to the very dregs. 

Once again : The warrior died like a hero, and fell gallantly 

in the held of battle. But died not Christ as a fool di- 

eih N Not on the bed of honour, with scars of glory on his 
breast ; but like some execrable miscreant, on a gibbet ; with 
lashes of the vile scourge on his back. Yes, the blessed Jesus 
bowed his expiring head on the accursed tree ; suspended be- 
tween heaven and earth, as an outcast from both, and unwor- 
thy of either. 

What suitable returns of adorable and inflamed devotion can 
we make to the Holy Oneof God ; thus dying, that we might 
live ! dying in ignominy and anguish, that we might live for 
ever, in* the heights of joy, and sit for ever on thrones of glo- 
ry ! Alas! it is not in 'us, impotent, insensible, mortals^ to 

* 2 Sam. iii. 33. Of this indignity ou* Lord cOjnplaiijf-j 
Are ye came out as against a thief? Matth. xxyi. $5. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 4$ 

be duly thankful. He only who confers such inconceivable 
rich favours, can enkindle a proper warmth of grateful affection. 
Then build thyself a monument, most gracious Jmmanuel! 
build thyself an everlasting monument of 'gratitude in our souls. 
Inscribe the memory of thy matchless beneficence, not with ink 
and pen ; but with that precious blood which gushed from thy 
wounded veins. Engrave it, not with the hammer and chizel ; 
but with that sharpened spear, which pierced thy sacred side. 
Let it stand conspicuous and indelible, not on outward frames 
of stone ; but on the very inmost tables of our hearts. 

One thing more let me observe, before I bid adieu to this 
intombed warrior, and his garnished sepulchre. How mean 
are these ostentatious methods of bribing the vote of fame, and 
purchasing a little posthumous renown ! What a poor substi- 
tute for a set of memorable actions, is polished alabaster, or the 
mimicry of sculptured marble! The real excellency of this 
bleeding patriot,* is written on the minds of his countrymen. 
It would be remembered with applause, so long as the nation 
subsists, without this artificial expedient to perpetuate it. — 
And such, such is the monument I would wish for myself 
Let me leave a memorial in the breasts of my fellow-creatures. 
Let surviving friends bear witness that I have not lived to my* 
self alone, nor been altogether unserviceable in my genera- 
tion. O ! Jet an uninterrupted series of beneficent offices be 
the inscription; and the best interests of my' acquaintance, 
the plate that exhibits it. 

Let the poor, as they pass by my grave, point at the little 
spot, and thankfully acknowledge— — — " There lies the 
man, whose^unwearied kindness was the constant relief of my 
various distresses ; who tenderly visited my languishing bed, 
and readily supplied my indigent circumstances. How often 
were his counsels a guide to my perplexed thoughts; and a 

* Sir Bevil Granville, slain in the civil wars, at an engage- 
meat with the rebels. It may possibly be some entertain- 
ment to the reader, if 1 subjoin Sir Bevil's character, as il is 
drawn by that celebrated pen. which wrote the history of those 

calamitous times. " That which would have clouded any 

victory, says the noble historian, and made the loss of others 
less spoken of, was the death of Sir Bewil Granville. He was 
indeed an excellent person, whose activity, interest, and repu- 
tation, were the foundation of what had been done in Cornwall : 
His temper and affections so public, that no accident which 
happened, could make any impression upon him ! and his ex- 
ample kept others from taking any thing ill, or at least seeming 
to do so. In a word, a brighter courage, and a gentler dispo- 
sition, were never married together, to make the most cheerful 
and innocent conversation," Clar. Hist. Rebell. Vol. II. 






46 MEDITATIONS 

cordial to my dejected spirits ! It is owing to God's blessing 
on his seasonable chanties, and prudent consolations, that I 
now live, and live in comfort." Let a person, once igno- 
rant and ungodly, lift up his eyes to heaven, and say within 
himself, as he walks over my bones, " Here are the last re- 
mains of that sincere friend, who watched for my soul. lean 
never forget, with what heedless gaiety I was posting on in 
the path of perdition ; and I tremble to think, into what irre- 
trievable ruin I might quickly have been plunged, had not his 
faithful admonitions arrested me in the wild career. I was un- 
acquainted with the gospel of peace, and had no concern for 
its unsearchable treasures ; but now, enlightened by his in- 
structive conversation, I see the all-sufficiency of my Saviour ; 
and, animated by his Tepeated exhortations, i count all things 
but loss, that I may win Christ. Methinks, his discourses, 
seasoned with religion, and set home by the divine spirit, still 
tingle in my ears ; are still warm on my heart; and, I trust, 
will be more and more operative, till we meet each other in the 
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 

The only infallible way of immortalising our characters ; a 
way equally open to the meanest and mo^t exalted fortune ; is, 
" to make our calling and election sure;" to gain some sweet 
evidence, that our names are vjrittenin heaven. Then, how- 
ever they may be disregarded or forgotten among men, they 
will not fail to be had in everlasting remembrance before the 
Lord. — This is, of all distinctions, far the noblest. This will 
issue in never-dying renown. Ambition, be this thy object, 
and every page of' scripture will sanctify thy passion ; even 
grace itself will fan thy flame. As to the earthly memorials, 
yet a little while, and'they are all obliterated. The tongue of 
those, whose happiness we have zealously promoted, must soon 
be silent in the coffin. Characters cut with a pen of iron, and 
committed to the solid rock, will ere long cease to be legible.* 
But as many as are enrolled in the Lamb's book of life, he him- 
self declares, shall never be blotted out from those annals of 
Eternity. f When a flight of years has mouldered the trium- 
phant column into dust ; when the brazen statue perishes, un- 
der the corroding hand of time ; those honours still continue ; 
still are blooming and incorruptible, in the world of glory. 

Make the extended skies your tomb ; 
. Let stars record your worth : 
Yet know, vain mortals, all must die, 
As nature's sickliest birth. 

* 3ota sunt ipsis quoquefata sepuk 
•j- Rev. iii 5. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 47 

Would bounteous Heav'n indulge my pray'r, 

I frame a nobler choice : 
Nor, living, wish the pompous pile ; 

Nor, dead, regret the loss. 

In thy fair book of life divine, 

My God, inscribe my name: 
There let it fill some humble place, 

Beneath the slaughtered Lamb. 

Thy saints, while ages roll away, 

Jn endless fame survive ; 
Their glories, o'er the wrongs of time, 

Greatly triumphant iiye. 

Yonder entrance leads, I suppose, to the vault. Let me 
turn aside, and take one view of the habitation, and its tenants. 
— The sullen door grates upon its hinges : Not used to receive 
many visitants, it admits me with reluctance, and murmurs. 

-What meaneth this sudden trepidation, while I descend 

the steps, and am visiting the pale nations of the dead ? — Be 
composed, my spirits, there is nothing to fear in these quiet 
chambers. " Here, even the wicked cease from troubling." 

Good Heavens 1 what a solemn scene !■ — How dismal the 
gloom! Here is perpetual darkness, and night even at noon- 
day. — How doleful the solitude ! Not one trace of G^eefitiT so- 
ciety ; but sorrow and terror seem to have made this their dread 
abode. — Hark ! how the hollow dome resounds at every tread. 
The echoes that long have slept, are awakened ; and lament, 
and sigh along the walls. 

A beam or two finds its way through the grates ; and reflects 
a feeble glimmer on the nails of the coffins. So many o| those 
sad spectacles, half concealed in shades ; half seen dimly by 
the baleful twilight ; add a deeper horror to these gloomy man- 
sions. — I pore upon the inscriptions— and am just able to pick 
out, that these are the remains of the rich and the renowned. 
No vulgar dead are deposited here. The most illustrious and 
Right Honourable, have claimed this for their last retreat. And, 
indeed, they retain somewhat of a shadowy pre-eminence. They 
lie ranged in mournful order, and in a sort of silent pomp, un- 
der the arches of an ample sepulchre ; while meaner corpses, 
without much ceremony, " go down to the stones of the pit," 
My apprehensions recover from their surprise. I find there 

are no phantoms, but such as fear raises. However, it still 

amazes me, to observe the wonders of this nether world. Those 
who received vast revenues, and called whole lordships their 
own. are here reduced to half a dozen feet of earth, or confin- 



48 MEDITATIONS 

ed in a few sheets of lead. Rooms of state, and sumptuous 
furniture, are resigned ; for no other ornament than the shroud, 
for no other apartment than the darksome niche. — Where is 
the star that blazed upon the breast ; or coronet that glittered 
round the temples ? The only remains of departed dignity are, 
the weather beaten hatchment, and the tattered escutcheon. I 
see no splendid retinue surrounding this solitary dwelling. 
The lordly equipage hovers no longer about the lifeless mas- 
ter. He has no other attendant than a dusty statue ; which, 
while the regardless world is as gay as ever, the sculptor's 
hand has taught to weep. 

Those who glorified in high-born ancestors, and noble pedi- 
gree, here drop their lofty pretensions. They acknowledge 
kindred with creeping things, and quarter arms with the mean- 
est reptiles. They say to corruption, Thou art my father ; and 
to the worm, Thou art my mother and my sister. — Or, shall 
they still assume the stile of distinction, ah ! how impotent 
were the claim ! how apparent the ostentation ! It is said by 
their monuments, Here Lies the Great. How easily is 
it replied by a spectator ! 

False marble ! Where f 

Nothing but poor and sordid dust lies here. 

Mortifying truth ; Sufficient one would think to wean the most 
sanguine appetite from this transitory state of things; from its 
sickly satisfactions, its fading glories, its vanishing treasures. 

For now, ye lying vanities of life ! 

Ye ever-tempting, ever-cheating train ! 

Where are ye now ? and what is your amount ? 
What is all the world to there poor breathless beings ? What 
are their pleasures ? A bubble broke — -What their honours ? a 
dream that is forgotten. — What the sum-total of their enjoy- 
vwnts below? Once perhaps, it appeared to inexperienced and 
fond desire something considerable. But now death has mea- 
sured it with his line, and weighed it in his scale. — What is the 
upshot? Alas ! it is shorter than a span ; lighter than the danc- 
ing spark, and driven away like the dissolving smoke. 

' Indulge, my soul, a serious pause. Recollect all the gay 
things that were wont to dazzle thy eyes, and inveigle thy af- 
fections. Here examine those baits of sense ; here form an es- 
timate of their real value. Suppose thyself first among the fa- 
vourites of fortune, who revel in the lap of pleasure, who shine 
in the robes of honour, and swim in tides of inexhausted riches : 
Yet how soon would the passing-bell proclaim thy exit ! and, 
when once that iron call has summoned thee to thy future 
reckoning, wiaere would all these gratifications be t At that pe- 
riod, how will ail the pageantry of the most affluent, splendid, 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 4$ 

or luxurious circumstances, vanish into empty air .'—And is 
this happiness, so passionately to be coveted ? 

I thank you, ye relics of sounding titles, and magnificent 
names. \ e have taught me more of the littleness of the world, 
than all the volumes of my library. Your nobility arrayed in 
a winding sheet, your grandeur mouldering in an urn, are the 
most indisputable proofs of the nothingness of created things. 
Never surely, did Providence write this important print In 
such legible characters, as in the ashes of My Lord, or on the 
corpse of His Grace .*— Let others if they please, pay their 
obsequious court to your wealthy sons ; and ignobly fawn, or 
anxiously sue for preferments. My thoughts shall often resort 
in pensive contemplation to the sepulchres of their sires ; and 
learn, from their sleeping dust— to moderate my expectation! 
from mortals— to stand disengaged from every undue attach- 
ment to the little interests of time—to get above the delusive 
amusements of honour, the gaudy tinsels of wealth, and all the 
empty shadows of a perishing world. 

Hark ! what sound is that'.' — In such a situation every noise 
alarms. — Solemn and slow, it breaks again upon the silent 
air.— It is the striking of the clock. Designed, one would ima- 
gine to ratify ail my serious meditations. Methinks, it says 
Amen, and sets a seal, to every improving hint, it tells me, 
that another portion of my appointed time is elapsed. One 
calls it, " the knell of my departed hours." It is the watch- 
word to vigilence and activity. It cries in the ear of reason, 
"Redeem the time. Catch the favourable gales of opportu- 
nity : O 1 catch them while they breathe; before thev are irre- 
coverably lost. The span of life shortens continually. Thy 
, minutes are all upon the wing, and hastening to be gone. Thou 
art a borderer upon eternity ; and makmg incessant advances 
to the state thou art contemplating." May the admonition 
sink deep into an obedient and attentive mind ! May it teach 
me that heavenly arithmetic, " of numbering my days, and 
applying my heart unto wisdom." 

* iave :°f ten wa &ed beneath the impending promontory's 
craggy cliff ; I have sometimes tread the vast spaces of in e 
londy desert ; and penetrated the inmost recesses of the drea- 
ry cavern : But never, never beheld nature Jourmg with so tre- 
mendous a form ; never felt such impressions of 'itve, striking 
cold on my heart; as under these black -fe^owed arches, amidst 
these mouldy walls and surrounded by such yuquu objects, 
where melancholy, deepest melancholy, for ever spreads her 
raven wings. — Let me now emerge from the damp and dread- 



* -Mora sola fattinr 

Qtaniula sini homi num corpuscular 



50 MEDITATIONS 

ful obscurity.— Farewell, ye seats of desolation, and shades of 
death ! Gladly I receive the realms of day. 

Having cast a superficial view upon these receptacles of the 
dead, curiosity prompts my inquiry to a more intimate survey. 
Could we draw back the covering of the tomb ; could we dis- 
cern what those are now who once were mortals — O ! how 
would it surprise and grieve us ! Surprise us, to behold the 
prodigious transformation which has taken place on every in- 
dividual ; grieve us, to observe the dishonour done to our na- 
ture in general, within these subterraneous lodgments ! 

Here the sweet and winning aspect, that wore perpetually 
an attractive smile, grins horribly a naked ghastly skull.- ■■■• 
The eye that out shone the diamond's brilliancy, and glanced 
its lovely lightening into the most guarded heart ; alas \ where 
is it ? Where shall we find the rolling sparkler ? how are all its 
uprightly beams eclipsed ! totally eclipsed !— The tongue 
that once commanded all the sweetness of harmony, and all 
the power of eloquence, in this strange land, has " forgot its 
cunning." Where are now those strains of harmony, whicfe 
ravished our ears ? Where is that flow of persuasion which 
carried captive our judgments ? The great master of language, 
and of song, is become silent as the night that surrounds him. 
The pampered flesh, so lately cloathed in purple and fine lin- 
nen, how is it covered with-nidely clods of clay ! There was a 
time, when the timorously nice creature would scarce " ad- 
venture to set a foot upon the ground, for delicateness and 
tenderness ;"* but is now enwrapped in clammy earth, and 
sleeps on no softer a pillow than the ragged gravel-stones.-— 
Here " the strong men bow themselves." The nervous arm 
is unstrung ; the brawny sinews are relaxed ; the limbs, not 
long ago the seats of vigour and activity, lie down motionless ; 
and the bones, which were as bars of iron, are crumbled into 
dust. 

Here the man of business forgets all his favourite schemes, 
and discontinues the pursuit of gain. — Here is a total stand of 
the circulation of merchandize, and the hurry of trade. In 
these solitary recesses, as in the building of Solomon's temple, 
is heard no sound of the hammer and axe. The winding- 
sheet, and the coffin, are the utmost bound of. all earthly de- 
vices, f* Hitherto they may go, but no farther." Here the 

sons of pleasure take a final farewell of their dear delights. 
No more is the sensualist anointed with oil, or crowned with 
rose-buds. He chants no more to the melody of the viol, nor 
revels any longer at the banquet of wine. Instead of sumptu- 
ous tables, and delicious treats, the poor voluptuary is himself a 
* Job xxiv. 20. 



AMONG THE TGxMBS. 51 

feast for fattened insects, the reptile riots in his flesh : [ 4 the 
worm feeds sweetly on him."'*- — -Here also beauty foils ; 
bright beauty drops her lustre here. O! how her roses fade, 
and her lillies languish, in this bleak soil ! How does the grand 
leveller pour contempt upon the charmer of our hearts ! how 
turn to deformity, what captivated the world before. 

Could the lover have a sight of his once enchanting fair-one, 
what a startling astonishment would seize him ! — — '* is this 
the object I not long ago so passionately admired ! J said she 
was divinely fair ; and thought her somewhat more than mor- 
tal. Her form was symmetry itself; every elegance breathed 
in her air ; and all the graces waited on her motions- — It was 
music when she spoke : But when she spoke encouragement it 
was little less than rapture. How my heart danced to those 
charming accents! and can that which some weeks ago was to 
admiration lovely, be now so insufferably loathsome f Where 
are those blushing cheeks? where the coral lips ? where that 
ivory neck, on which the curiing jet, in such glossy ringlets 
flowed ? with a thousand other beauties of person, and itn 
thousand delicacies of action ?f -Amazing alteration ! de- 
lusory bliss ! — Fondly I gazed upon the glittering meteor. It 
shone brightly, and I mistook it for a star ; for a permanent 
and substantial good. But how is it fallen ! fallen from an orb 
not its own ! and all that I can trace on earth, is but & putrid 
mass" 

Lie, poor Florella ! lie deep, as thou dest in obscure dark- 
ness. Let night, with her impenitrahle shades alwavs conceal 
tliee. May no prying eye be witness to thy disgrace ; but lei 
thy surviving Sisters limit upon thy state, when they contem- 
plate the idol in the glass. When the pleasing image rlse^ 
gracefully to view, surrounded with a world of charms, and 
flushed with joy at the consciousness of them all :-r — then, in 
those minutes of temptation and dangers, when, vanity uses to 
steal into the thoughts — then let them remember, what a veil 
of horror is drawn over a face, which was once beautiful and 
brilliant as theirs. Such a seasonable reflection might regulate 
the labors of the toilet, and create a more earnest solicitude, to 
polish the jewels, than to varnish the casket. It might then 
become their highest ambition to have the mind decked, with 
divine virtues, and dressed after the amiable pattern of their 
Redeemer's holiness. 

* Dent, xxviii. 56. 

f Quofugit Venus ? Hen ! Quove color ! decern 
Quo motus f Quid habit itiius, illius^ 
%ua spira bat amores, 
£u& me surpuere at mild ? 



m 



32 MEDITATIONS 

And would this prejudice their persons, or depreciate their 
charms ?— Quite the reverse. It would spread a sort of hea- 
venly glory over the finest set of features, and heighten the 
loveliness of every other engaging accomplishment. — And, 
what is yet a more inviting consideration, these flowers would 
not wither with nature, nor be tarnished with time ; but would 
open continually into richer beauties, and flourish even in the 
winter of age. — But th^ most incomparable recommendation 
of these noble qualities, is, that from their hallowed relics, as 
from the fragrant ashes of the phoenix, will ere long arise an 
illustrious form, bright as the wings of angels, lasting as the 
light of the new Jerusalem. 

For my part, the remembrance of this sad revolution shall 
make me ashamed to pay my devotion to a shrine of perishing 
iiesh, and afraid to expect all my happiness from so brittle a 
joy. It shall teach me, not to think too highly of well-propor- 
tioned clay, though formed in the most elegant mould, and 
animated with the sweetest soul. It is heaven's last, best, and 
crowning gift, to be received with gratitude, and cherished 
with love, as a most valuable *le'ssing; not worshipped with 
the incense of flattery, and strains of fulsome adoration, as a 

goddess. -It will cure, I trust, the dotage of my eyes, and 

incline meal ways to prefer the substantial " ornaments of a 
meek and virtuous spirit," before the transient decorations of 
white and red on the skin. 

Here I called in my roving meditations from their long ex- 
cursion on this tender subject. Fancy listened a while to the 
soliloquy of a lover. Now judgment resumes the Aeins, an;J 
guides my thoughts to more near aiu) ^f-inrer^ti^ ~ c . u j r } e ^ 

~ iiC" ? "YCr, 'jpGTi a review of the whole scene, croucled 

v^th spectacles of mortality, and trophies of death, I could 
not forbear smiting my breast, and fetching a sigh, and la- 
menting over the noblest of all visible beings, laid prostrate 
under the feet of " the pale horse and his rider."* — I could 
not forbear repeating that pathetic exclamation ; "Of thou, 
Adam, what hast thou done f f What desolation has thy dis- 
obedience wrought in the earth !— See the malignity, the ru- 
inous malignity of sin! Sin has demolished so many stately 
structures of flesh ; sin has made such liavock, among the most 
excellent ranks of God's lower creation; and sin (that deadly 
bane of our nature) would have plunged our better part into 
the execrable horrors of the nethermost hell, had not our mer- 
ciful Mediator interposed, and given himself for our ransom. 
—Therefore, what grateful acknowledgments does the whole 
world of penitent sinners owe; what ardent returns 

* Rev, vi. 8. t 2 E-sd. vii. 41. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 53 

will a whole heaven of glorified believerspay to such a friend, 
benefactor, and deliverer ! 

Musing upon these melancholy objects, a faithful remem- 
brancer suggested from within,— " Must this sad change suc- 
ceed in me also ? Am I to draw my last gasp ; to become a 
breathless corpse ; and be what I deplore !* Is there a time 
approaching, when this body shall be carried out upon the 
bier, and consigned to its clay-cold bed h While some kind 
acquaintance, perhaps, may drop one parting tear ; and cry, 
Alas ! my brother ! is the time approaching ?" Nothing is 
more certain. A decree, much surer than the laws of the 
Medcs and Persians, has, irrevocably determined the doom. 

Should one of these ghastly figures burst from his confine- 
ment, and start up in frightful deformity, before me ; should 
the haggard skeleton lift a clattering hand, and point it full in 
my view ; should it open the stiffened jaws, and, with a hoarse 
tremendous murmur, break this profound silence ; should it 
accost me as Samuel's apparition addressed the trembling king, 
<s The Lord shall deliver thee also into the hands of death; 
yet, a little while, and thou shalt be with me"-f — —The solemn 
warning, delivered in so striking a manner, must strongly im- 
press my imagination. A messenger in thunder would scarce! 

sink deeper. Yet there is abundantly greater reason to be 

alarmed by that express declaration of the Lord God Al- 
mighty, H -\aou shalt surely die"— AN ell then, since sentence 
is passed ; since I am a condemned man, and know not when 
the death warrant may arrive ; let me die to sin, and die to the 
world ; before I die to the stroke of a righteous God. Let 
me employ the little uncertain interval of respite from execu- 
tion, in preparing for a happier state and a better life ; that 

* I pass, with melancholy state, 

By all these solemn heaps of fate ; 

And think, as soft and sad I tread 

Above the venerable dead, 

" Time was, like me, they life possess'd ; 

And time will be, when I shall rest. 5 * Pamei 

f 1 Sam. xxviii. 19. On this place, the Dutch translator of 
the Meditations has added a note ; to correct, very probably, 
what he supposes a mistake. On the same supposition, I pre- 
sume, the compilers of our rubric ordered the last vqtzq of JEc- 
cles. xivi. to be omitted in the daily service of the church. But 
that the sentiment hinted above, is strictly true : that it was 
Samuel himself (not an infernal spirit, personating the prophet) 
who appeared to the female necromancer atEndor ; appeared, 
not in compliance with any diabolical incantation, but in pur- 
suance of the divine commission ; this, I think, is fully proved 
m the Historical account of the life of David. Vol. 2. chap. 23« 
E 2 



* 



5* MEDITATIONS 

when the fatal moment comes, and I am commanded to shut 
my eyes upon ail things here below, I may open them again, 
to see my Saviour in the mansions above. 

Since this body, which is so fearfully and wonderfully made, 
must fall to pieces in the grave; since I must soon resign all 
my bodily powers to darkness, inactivity, and corruption ; let- 
it be my constant care to use them well, while 1 possess them. 
— — Let my hands be stretched forth to relieve the needy ; 
and always be more " ready to give than -receive.-" — —Let 
my knees bend in deepest humiliation, before the throne of 
grace; while my eyes are cast down to the earih, in peniten- 
tial confusion ; or devoutly looking up to heaven for pardoning 
mercy ! — In every iriendly interview^, let the law oi kindness 
dwell on my lips : or rather, if the seriousness of my acquaint- 
ance permits, let the gospel of peace flow from my tongue. 
O ! that i might be enabled, in every public concourse, to lift 
up my voice like a trumpet ; and pour abroad a more joyful 
sound, than its most melodious accents, in proclaiming the 
glad tidings of free salvation !- — Be shut, my ears, resolutely 
shut, against the malevolent whispers of slander, and the con- 
tagious breath of filthy talking. But be swift to hear the in- 
structions of Wisdom ; be all attention when your Redeemer 
speaks; imbibe the precious truths, and convey them care- 
fully to the heart. — Carry me, my feet, to the temple of the 
Lord ; to the beds of the sick, and houses of the poor.— 
May all my members, devoted entirely to my divine master, 
be the willing instruments of promoting his glory ! 

Then, ye embalmers, you may spare your pains : These 
works of faitk, and labours of love ; these shall be my spices 
and perfumes. Enwrapped in these, I would lay me gently- 
down, and sleep sweetly in the blessed Jesus ; hoping, that 
God will " give commandment concerning my bones;" and 
one day fetch them up from the dust, as silver from the fur- 
nace, purified, " I say not seven times, but seventy times 
seven." 

Here my contemplation took wing, and, in an instant, a~ 
lighted in the garden adjoining to mount Calvary. Having 
viewed the abode of my deceased fellow creatures, methought 
I longed to see the place where our Lord lay. — And, O! 
what a marvellous spectacle was once exhibited in this memo- 
rable sepulchre ! — He " who clothes himself with light, as with 
a garment ; and walks upon the wings of the wind ;"* HE 

* The sacred scriptures, speaking of the Supreme Being, say, 
— ■ He walketb upon the waves of the sea ,• to denote his uncon- 
troulabie power, Job ix. 8.— He vidhth in the circuit of Mia* 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 55 

rvas pleased to wear the habiliments of mortality arid dwelt 
-among the prostrate dead., Who can repeat the wondrous 
truth too often ? who can dwell upon the transporting theme 
too long ? He, who sits enthroned in glory, and diffuses bliss 
among ail the heavenly hosts : He was once a pale and bloody 
corpse, and pressed this little spot. 

O Death J how great was thy triumph in that hour! Never 
did thy gloomy realms contain such a prisoner before.— Pri- 
soner, a\& Isay? No: He was more than conqueror. He 
arose, far more mightily than Sampson, from a transient slum- 
ber ; broke down the gates, and demolished the strong holds, 
of those dark dominions. — And this, O mortals ! this is the only 
consolation and security. Jesus has trod the dreadful path 
and smoothed it for your passage.— Jesus, sleeping in the 
chambers of the tomb, has brightened the dismal mansion, and 
left an inviting odour in those beds of dust. The dying Jesus, 
(never let the comfortable truth depart from your minds! the 
dying Jesus) is your sure protection, your unquestionable pass- 
port, through the territories of the grave. Believe in him, and 
they shall prove a " high-way to Zionf shall transmit you 
safe to paradise. Believe in him, and you shall be no losers, 
but unspeakable gainers by your dissolution. For, hear what 
the oracle of heaven says upon this important point ? Whoso 

believeth in Me, shall never die.'* -What sublime and em- 

phatical language is this! Thus much, at least, it must im- 
port ; ~" The nature of that last change shall be surpris- 
ingly altered for the better. It shall no longerbe inflicted, as 
a punishment, but rather be vouchsafed as a blessing. To 

ven; to express the immensity of his presence, Job xxii. 14. — 
Mewaikethuponthe wings of the wind ; to signify the amazing 
swiftness of his operations, Psal. civ. 3. — In which last phrase, 
there is, I think an elegance and emphasis, not taken notice of 
by our commentators, and yet unequalled in any writer. — Not, 
hejlyeth ,- He runneth ; but, He walketh : and that, on the very 
wings of the wind ; on the most impetuous of elements, roused 
into its utmost rage, and sweeping along with inconceivable ra- 
pidity A tumult in nature, not to be described, is the compos- 
ed and sedate work of the DEITY. A speed, not to be mea- 
sured, is (with reverence I use the expression, and not to com- 
port with our low methods of conception) the solemn and ma- 
jesticfootpace of JEHOVAH. — How flat are the following lines, 
even in the greatest master of lyric song, 
O cyor certns, et agente nimbos, 
O cyor euro. 
when compared with this inimitable stroke of divine poetry :«— 
He walketh upon the wings of the wind. 
* John xi. £6. 



MEDITATIONS 

such persons it shall come attended with such a train of bene- 
fits, as will render .it a kind of happy impropriety to call it dy- 
ing. Dying! No; 'tis then they truly begin to live. Their 
exit is the end of their frailty, and their entrance upon per- 
fection. Their last groan is the prelude to life and immor- 
tality." 

O ye timorous souls, that are terrified at the sound of the 
passing bell ; that turn pale at the sight of an opened grave : 
and can scarce behold a coffin, or a skull, without shuddering 
horror; Ye that are in bondage to the grisly tyrant, and 
tremble at the shaking of his iron rod, cry mightily to the Fa- 
ther of your spirits, for faith in his dear Son. Faith will free 
you from your slavery.* Faith will embolden you to tread on 
(this fiercest of) serpents, f Old Simeon, clasping the child 
Jesus in the arms of his flesh, and the glorious Mediator in 
the arms of his faith, departs with tranquility and peace. That 
bitter persecutor Saul, having won Christ, being found in him, 
longs to be dismissed from cumbrous clay.J Methinks I see ano- 
ther of Immanuel's followers trusting in his Saviour, leaning on 
his beloved, go down to the silent shades with composure and ala- 
ciity.§ In this powerful name, an innumerable company of sin- 
ful creatures have set up their banners, and " overcome through 
the blood of the Lamb." Authorised by the Captain of thy 
salvation, thou also may est set thy feet upon the neck of this 
king of terrors. Furnished with this antidote thou also may est 
play around the hole of the asp, and put thy undaunted hand 

* Death's terror in the moyfatoXri faith removes : 

'Tis faith disarms destruction. 

Believe and look with triumph on the tomb. 

These, and some other quotations, I am proud to borrow from 
the Night Thoughts , especially from Night the Fourth. In which 
energy of language, sublimity of sentiment, and the most ex- 
quisite beauties of poetry, are the least perfections to be ad- 
mired. Almost every line glows with devotion : rises into the 
most exalted apprehensions of the adorable Redeemer ; and is 
animated with the most lively faith in his all-sufficient media- 
tion. The author of this excellent performance has the pecu- 
liar felicity of ennobling all the strength of .style, and every de- 
licacy of imagination, with the grand and momentous truths of 
Christianity. These thoughts give the higher entertainmentft© 
the fancy, and impart the noblest improvement to the mind. 
They not only refine our taste, but prepare us for death, and 
ripen us for glory. I never take up this amiable piece, but I 
am ready to cry out — Tecum vwere amen tecum abeam liben* ; — 
i e. " inspire me with such a spirit, and life shall be deligfeU'd, 
nor death itself unwelcome." 

f Luke x. 19, J Phil, i 23, § 2 Pet. i, 14; 



AMONG THE TOMBS. $? 

in this cockatrice-den.* Thou may est feel the viper fastening 
to thy mortal part, and fear no evil ;\ thou shalt one day 
shake it off by a joyful resurrection, and suffer no harm. 

Resurrection! that cheering word eases my mind and: an 
anxious thought^ and solves a most momentous question. I 
was going to ask, "'Wherefore do all these corpses lie here, 
in this abject condition? Is this their final state? Has death 
conquered ? and will the tyrant hold captivity captive ? How 
long wilt thou forget them, O Lord! Forever?" — No, saith 
the voice from heaven, the word of divine revelation, the righ* 
team are all u prisoners of hope. "% There is an hour, (an 
awful secret that, and known only to all fore-seeing Wisdom,) 
an appointed hour there is, when an act of grace will pass the 
great seal above, and give them a universal discharge, a gene- 
ral delivery from the abodes of corruption.— -—Then shall the 
Lord Jesus descend from heaven, with the shout of the 
archangel, and the trump of God. Destruction itself shall 
hear, his call, and the obedient grave give up her dead. In a 
moment, in the twinkling of an eye, they shake off the sleep 
of ten thousand years : and spring forth, like the bounding 
roe, to " meet their Lord in the air." 

And, O ! with what cordial congratulations, what transport- 
ing endearments, do the soul and body, those affectionate 
companions, re-unite ! but with how much greater demonstra- 
tions of kindness, are they both received by their compassions- 
ate Redeemer ! The Ancient of days, who comes in the clouds 
of heaven, is their Friend, their Father, their Bridegroom. He 
comes with irresistible power and infinite V^~.. but they have 
nothing to fear from his majestic appearance. Those tremen- 
duous solemnities, which spread desolation and astonishment 
through the universe, serve only to inflame their love, and 
heighten their hopes, The Judge, the awful Judge, amidst 
all his magnificence and splendor, vouchsafes to confess i 
Barnes; vouchsafes to commemorate their fidelity, before all 
the inhabitants of the skies ; and the whole assembled world. 

Hark ! the thunders are hushed, See ! the lightnings ceate 
their rage. The angelic armies stand in silent suspense. The 
whole race of Adam is wrapped up in pleasing, or anxious ex- 
Dictations,—- And, now that adorable Person, whose favour is 
better than life, whose acceptance is a crown of -glory, lifts up 
the light of his countenance upon the righteous. He speaks ; 
and what ravishing words proceed from his gracious lips! 
what ecstasies of delight they enkindle in the breasts of the 
faithful !— " 1 accept you, O my people ! Ye are they that be- 
lieve in my name. Ye are they that renounce yourselves, and 
are complete in me. I see no spot or blemish in you : for ye 
& t Acts xxviii. 35. | Zech, ix, 12. 



58 MEDITATIONS 

are washed in my blood, and clothed with my righteousness. 
Renewed hy my Spirit, ye have glorified me on earth, and 
have been faithful unto death. Come then ye servants of ho- 
liness, enter into the joy of your Lord. Come, ye children 
of light, ye blessed of my Father, receive the kingdom that 
shall never be removed ; wear, the crown which fadeth not 
away : and enjoy pleasures for evermore !" 

Then it will be one of the smallest privileges of the righteous, 
that they shall languish no more; that sickness will never again 
shew her pale countenance in their dwellings.* Death itself 
will be " swallowed up in victory/' That fatal javelin which 
has drank the blood of mouarchs, and finds its way to the hearts 
of all the sons of Adam, shall be utterly broken. That enor- 
mous sythe, which has struck empires from their root, and 
swept ages and generations into oblivion, shall lie by in per- 
petual uselessness. Sin also, which filled thy quiver, thou 
insatiate archer! — Sin, which strung thy arm with resistless 
vigour, which pointed all thy shafts with inevitable destruc- 
tion — sin will then be done away. Whatsoever is frail or de-* 
proved, will be thro > n off with our grave-clothes. All to come 
is perfect holiness and consummate happiness; the term of 
whose countenance is Eternity, 

O Eternity ! Eternity / How are our boldest, our strong- 
est thoughts, lost and overwhelmed in thee ! Who can set land 
marks, to limit thy dimensions; or find plumbers, to fathom 
* } driihmetitians have figures, to compute all the 
progressions of time. Adrc~H£*rR€rs have -hsstmmtmts, to csl* 
culate the distances of the planets. But what numbers can 
state, what lines can guage, the lengths and breadths of eter- 
ty ? " It is higher than heaven ; what canst thou do? deeper 
than hell ; what canst thou know ? The measure thereof is 
longer than the earth, broader than the sea/'t 

Mysterious, mighty excellence ! A sum not to be lessened 
by the largest deductions ! An extent not to be contracted by 
all possible diminutions! None can truly say, after the most 
prodigious waste of ages ; " So much of eternity is gone." 
For when millions of centuries are elapsed* it is but just com- 
mencing ; and when millions more have run their ample round,- 
it will be no nearer ending. Yea, when ages, numerous as 

* Isaiah, speaking of the new Jerusalem, mentions this as 
one of irs immunities ; The inhabitants thereof shall no more say, 
lam sick. Another clause in its royal chapter, runs thus ; God 
shall Wipe, away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall be no 
more death, ? either sorrow, ner crying; neither shall there b* any 
more pain, Isa* xxxiii. 24. Rev. xxi. 4. 
J Job xi. 8 4 9. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 59 

the bloom of Spring, encreased by the herbage of Summer, 
both augmented by the leaves of Autumn, and all multiplied 
by the drops of rain which drown the Winter; when these, 
and ten thousand times ten thousand more, — more than can be 
represented by any similitude, or imagined by any concep- 
tion ;—- when all these are revolved and finished, Eternity, vast, 
boundless, amazing eternity, will only be beginning / 
s What a pleasing, yet awful thought is this ! Full of delight, 
arid full of dread. O ! may it alarm our fears, quicken our 
.hopes, and animate all our endeavours! Since we are soon to 
launch into this endless and inconceivable state, let us give all 
diligence to secure our entrance into bliss.— — -Now let us give 
all diligence ,* because there is no alteration in the scenes of 
futurity. The wheel never turns : all is stedfast and immova- 
ble beyond the grave. Whether we are then seated on the 
throne, or stretched on the rack ; a seal will be set on our 
condition,, by the hand of everlasting mercy, or inflexible jus- 
tice.— The saints always rejoice amidst the smiles of Hea- 
ven ; their harps are perpetually tuned ; their triumphs admit 

of no interruption. The ruin of the wicked is irremidiable. 

The fatal sentence, once passed, is never to be repealed. No 
hope of exchanging their doleful habitations. But all things 
bear the same dismal aspect, for ever and ever. 

The wicked— My mind recoils* at the apprehension of their 
misery. It has studiously waved the fearful subject, and seems 
unwilling to pursue it even now. But it is better to reflect up- 
on -it for a few minutes, than to endure it to eternal ages. 
Perhaps, the consideration of their aggravated misery, may 
fee profitably terrible ; may teach me more highly to prize the 
Saviour, " who delivers from going down into the bottomless 
pit ;" may drive me, like the avenger's sword, to this only- 
city of refuge for obnoxious sinners. 

1 he wicked seem to lie here, like malefactors, in a deep 
and strong dungeon ; reserved against the day of trial.- — - 
** Their departure was without peace." Clouds of horror sat 
louring upon their closing eye-lids, most sadly foreboding the 
Si blackness of darkness forever. " When the last sickness 
seized their frame, and the inevitable change advanced ; when 
they saw the fatal arrow fitting to the strings ; saw the deadly 
archer aiming at their heart, and felt the envenomed shaft 
fastened in their vitals ;— Good God ! what fearfulness came 
upon them ! what horrible dread overwhelmed them ! How 
did they stand shuddering and aghast upon the tremendous 
precipice ! excessively afraid to plunge into the abyss of eter- 
nity, yet utterly unable to maintain their standing on the verge 
©f life. 

* *~*Jhimu$ tneminissc horrtt > luctugue resugit, Vii^ 



«0 MEDITATIONS 

O ! what pale reviews, what startling prospects, conspire 
to augment their sorrows !— - They look backward, and behold ! 
a most melancholy scene I Sins uniepented of; mercy slight- 
ed ; and the day of grace ending ! — They look forward, and 
nothing presents itself, but the righteous Judge, the dreadful 
tribunal, and a most solemn reckoning. — They roll around 
their affrighted eyes, on attending friends. If accomplices in 
debauchery ! it sharpens their anguish, to consider this farther 
aggravation of their guilt, that they have not sinned alone, 
but drawn others into the snare. If religious acquaintance ; 
it strikes a fresh gash into their hearts, to think of never seeing 
them any more, but only at an unapproachable distance, se- 
parated by the unpassable gulf. 

At last, perhaps, they begin to pray, finding no other pos- 
sible way of relief, they are constrained to apply to the Al- 
mighty. With trembling lips* and a faultering tongue, they 
cry unto that Sovereign Being, "who kills and makes alive. ,, 
—But why have they deferred, so long deferred their address- 
es to God ? Why have they demised all his counsels, and stood 
incorrigible under his incessant reproofs ' How often have they 
been forwarned of these terrors, and most importunately en- 
treated to seek the LORD while he might bejound! — I wish 
they may obtain mercy at the eleventh, at the last hour. I 
-wish they may be snatched from the jaws, the opened, the gap- 
ing, the almost closing jaws of damnation. But, alas ! who 
can tell, whether affronted Majesty will lend an ear to their 
complaint ; whether the Holy one will work a miracle of grace 
in behalf of such transgressors? He may, for aught any mortal 
knows, u laugh at their calamity, and mock when their fear 
cometh." 

Thus they lie groaning out the poor remains of life ; their 
limbs bathed in sweat ; their heart struggling with convulsive 
throes; pains insupportable throbbing in every pulse; and in- 
numerable darts of agony transfixing their conscience. 

In that dread moment, how the frantic soul 
Raves round the walls of her clay tenement ; 
Buns to each avenue, and shrieks for help; 
But shrieks in vain ! How wishfully she looks 
On all she's leaving, now no longer her's ! 
A little longer, yet a little longer, 
O ! might she stay to wash away her crimes, 
And fit her for her passage ! Mournful sight ! 
Her very eyes weep blood ; and every groan 
She heaves, is big with horror ; But the foe, 
like a staunch murderer, steady to his purpose, 
Pursues her close thro' ev'ry lane of life, 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 61 

2\or misses once the track ; but presses on : 
Till, forc'd at last to the tremendous verge, 
At once she sinks. * 

If this be the end of the ungodly — > u My soul, come not 
thou into their secret ! unto their assembly, mine honour, be 
not thou united !" — How awfully accomplished is that predic- 
tion of inspired wisdom ' Sin, though seemingly sweet in the 
commission, yet at the last, it biteth like a serpent, and stingtth 
like an adder. — Fly therefore from the tents, O ! fly from the 
ways of such wretched men. 

Happy dissolution ! were this the period of their woes. But, 
alas 1 all these tribulations are only the beginning of sorrows ; 
a small drop only from that cup of trembling, which is min- 
gled for their future portion. No sooner has the last pang 

dislodged their reluctant souls, but they are hurried into the 
presence of an injured angry God ; not under the conducting 
care of beneficent angels, but exposed to the insults of accursed 
spirits, who lately tempted them,Jnow upbraid them, and will 

forever torment them. -Who can imagine their confusion 

and distress, when they stand guilty and inexcuseable before 
their incensed Creator? They are received with frowns. The 
God that made them, has no " mercy on them. r + The 
Prince of Peace rejects them with abhorrence. He consigns 
them over to chains of darkness, and receptacles of despair ; 
against the severer doom, and more public infamy, of the 

great day. Then all the vials of wrath will be emptied upon 

these wretched creatures. The law they have violated, and 
the gospel they have slighted ; the power they have defied, 
and the goodness they have abused ; will all get themselves 
honour in their exemplary destruction. Then God, the God 
to whom vengeance belongeth, will draw the arrow to the very 
head, and set them as the mark of his inexorable displeasure. 

Resurrection will be no privilege to them ; but immortality 
itself, their everlasting curse.— -Would they not bless the grave, 
tf that land where all things are forgotten ;" and wish to lie 
eternally hid, in his deepest gloom ? But the dust refuses to 
conceal their persons, or to draw a veil over their practices. 
They also must awake, must arise, must appear at the bar, 
and meet the Judge. A Judge, before whom fl the pillars of 
heaven tremble, and the earth melts away !" A Judge, once 
long-suffering, and very compassionate ; but now unalterably 
determined to teach stubborn offenders, what it is to provoke 
the Omnipotent Godhead ; what it is to trample upon the 

* See a valuable Poem, entitled, " The Grave.' 9 
f Isa, xxvii. 11. 

F 



■ 62 MEDITATIONS 

blood of Ills Son, and offer despite to all the gracious overtures 
of his Spirit. 

O ! the perplexity ! the distraction ! that must seize the 
impenitent rebels, when they are summoned to the great tribu- 
nal !—What will they do in this day of severe visitation ? this 

day of final decision?* Where? how? whence can they 

find help? — To which of the saints will they turn? whither 
betake themselves for shelter or for succour ? Alas ! it is all in 
vain ; it is too late.— Friends and acquaintance know them no 
more. Men and angels abandon them to their approaching 
doom. .Even the Mediator, the Mediator himself, deserts 
them in this dreadful hour. — — -To fly, will be impracticable, to 
justify themselves, still more impossible ; and now, to make 
any supplications, utterly unavailable. 

Behold the books are opened. The secrets of all hearts are 
disclosed. The hidden things of darkness are brought to light* 
How empty, how ineffectual now, are all those refined artifices, 
with which hypocrites imposed upon their fellow-creatures, 
and preserved a character in the sight of men !— — The jealous 
God, who has been about their path, and about their bed, 
and espied out all their ways, sets before them the things they 
have done. They cannot answer him one in a thousand, nor 
stand in the awful judgment. The heavens reveal their iniqui- 
ties, and the earth rises up against them* They ate speech- 
less with guilt, and stigmatized with infamy, before all the 
armies of the sky, and all the nations of the redeemed. What 
a favour would they esteem it, to hide their ashamed heads in 
the bottom of the ocean, or even to be buried beneath the 
ruins of the tottering world ! 

If the contempt poured upon them be thus insupportable, 
how will their hearts endure, when the sword of infinite indig- 
nation is unsheathed, and fiercely waved around their defence- 
less heads, or pointed directly at their naked breasts ? How , 
must the wretched scream with wild amazement, and rend the 
very heavens with their cries^ when the right-aiming thunder- 
bolts go abroad ! go abroad with a dead commission, to drive 

them from the kingdoms of glory ; and plunge them -not 

in tlie sorrows of a moment, or the tortures of an hour but 

into ail the restless agonies, of unquenchable fire, and ever* 
lasting despair. f 

* Job xx. 27. 

f Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
And rest can never dwell ; hope never comes, 
That comes to all : But torture without end 
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 
With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed. Milton. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 6fi 

Misery of miseries! too shocking for reflection to dwell 
upon. But, if so dismal to foresee, and that at a distance, to- 
gether with some comfortable expectation of escaping it 

O ! how bitter, inconceivably bitter to bear, without any inter- 
mission, or any mitigation, through hopeless and eternal ages f 

Who has any bowels of pity? who has any sentiments oj- 
compassion ? who has any tender concern for his fellow-crea- 
tures ? who ?— in God's name, and for Christ's sake, let 
him shew it, by warning every man, and beseeching every 
man, to seek the Lord while he may be found ; to throw 
down the arms of rebellion, before the act of indemnity ex- 
pires ; submissively to adore the Lamb, while he holds out 

the golden sceptre. Here let us act the friendly part to 

mankind ; here let the whole force of our benevolence exert it- 
self ; in. exhorting relations, acquaintance, neighbours, whom- 
soever we may probably influence* to take the wings of faith 
unfeigned, of repentance undelayed, and flee away from this 
wrath to come. 

Upon the whole, what stupendous discoveries are these ! 
Lay them up in a faithful remembrance, O my soul! Recol- 
lect them with the most serious attention, when thou iiest down, 
and when thou risest up, When thou walkest, receive them 
ibr thy companions ; when thou talkest, listen to them as thy 
prompters ; and whatever thou dost, consult them as thy di- 
rectors. Influenced by these considerations, thy views 

will greaten, thy affections be exalted, and thou, thysejf 
raised above the tantalizing power of perishing things. Duly 
mindful of these, it will be the sum of thy desires, and the 
scope of thy endeavours, to gain the approbation of that 
Sovereign Being, who will then rill the throne, and pronounce 
the decisive sentence. Thou wilt see nothing worth a wish* in 
comparison of having his will for thy rule, his glory for thy aim, 
and his Holy Spirit for thy ever actuating principle. 

Wonder, O man ! be lost in admiration, at those prodigi- 
ous events, which are coming upon the universe ! Events, the 
greatness of which nothing finite can measure. Such as will 
cause whatever is considerable or momentous in the annals of 
all generations, to sink into littleness and nothing. Events 
(Jesus, prepare us for their approach ! defend us when they 
take place !) big with the everlasting fates of all the living and 
all the dead. 9 

* Great day of dread, derision, and despair 1 
At thought of thee, each sublunary wish 
Lets go its eager grasp, and quits the world. 

Night Thoughts* 



64 MEDITATIONS 

I must see the graves cleaving, the sea teeming, and swarms 
unsuspected, crowds unnumbered ; yea, multitudes of throng- 
ing nations, rising from both. 

I must see the world in flames ; must stand at the dissolution 
of all terrestrial things, and bean attendant on the burial of 
nature. I must see the vast expanse of the sky, wrapt up 
like a scroll ; and the incarnate God, issuing forth from light 
inaccessable, with the thousand times ten thousand angels, to 
judge both men and devils. I must see the curtain of time 
drop ; see aj! eternity disclosed to view ; and enter upon a state 
of being, that will never, never, have an end. 

And ought I not (let the vainest imagination determine : 
ought I not) to try the sincerity of my faith, and take heed to 
my ways? Is there an inquiry; is there a care; of greater, 
of equal, of comparable importance?- Is not this an infi- 
nitely pressing call, to see my loins are girded about, my lamp 
trimmed, and myself dressed for the bridegroom's appear- 
ance ? That, washed in the fountain opened in my Saviours 
side, and clad with the marriage-garment wove by his obedi- 
ence, I may be found in peace, unblamable, and unreprova- 

ble. Otherwise, how shall I stand with boldness, when the 

stars of heaven fall from their orbs? How shall I come forth 
erect and courageous, when the earth itself reels to and fro 
like a drunkard ?* How shall I look with joy, and see my 
salvation drawing nigh, when the hearts of millions and mil- 
lions fail for fear ? 

Now, Madam, lest my Meditations set in a cloud, and 
leave any ud pleasing gloom upon your mind, let me once 
more turn to the brightening prospects of the righteous. A 
view of them, and their delightful expectations, may serve to 
exhilarate the thoughts which have been musing upon melan- 
choly subjects, and hovering about the edges of infernal dark- 
ness : Just as a spacious field, arrayed in cheerful green, re- 
lieves and re-invigorates the eye, which has fatigued itself by 
poring upon some minute, or gazing upon some glaring object. 

The righteous seem to lye by, in the bosom of the earth, 
as a votary pilot in some well sheltered creek, till all the storms, 
which infest this lower world, are blown over. Here they en- 
joy safe anchorage ; are in no danger of foundering amidst the 
waves of prevailing iniquity, or of being shipwrecked on the 
rock of any powerful temptation. But, ere long, we shall 
behold them hoisting their flag of hope ; riding before a sweet 
gale of atoning merit, and redeeming love; till they make, 
with all the sails of an assured faith, the blessed port of eter- 
nal life. 

* Isa. xxiv. 22. 



AMONG THE TOMES. 65 

Then may the honoured friend, to whom I am writing, rick 
in good works, rich in heavenly tempers, but inexpressibly 

richer in her Saviour's righteousness. -O ! may she enter 

the harbour, like a gallant stately vessel, returned successful 
and victorious from some grand expedition, with acclamations, 
honour, and joy ! while my little bark, attendant on the so- 
lemnity, and a partaker of the triumph, glides humbly after; 
and both rest together in the haven, — -the wish'd-for, blissful 
haven, of perfect security, and everlasting repose. 



END OF MEDITATIONS AMONG THE TOMBS. 



F2 



REFLECTIONS 

ON A 



IN A LETTER TO A LAD^. 



I look upon the pleasure which we take in a garden, as one of 
the most innocent delights in human life. A garden was the 
habitation of our first parents before the fall. It is natural- 
ly apt to fill the mind zviih calmness and tranquility, and to 
lay all its turbulent passions at rest. It gives us a great in- 
sight into the contrivance and ivisdom of Providence, and 
suggests innumerable subjects for meditation. 

Spec. Vol. VII. No. 47T. 

MADAM, 

SOME time ago, my meditations took a turn among the 
tombs. They visited the awful and melancholy mansions 
of the dead ;* and you were pleased to favour them with your 
attention. — May I now beg the honour of your company, in • 
a more inviting and delightful excursion! in a beautiful Flow- 
er-garden, where I lately walked, and at once regaled the 
r sense, and indulged the fancy. 

It was early in a summer morning — when the air was cool, 
*he earth moist, the whole face of the creation fresh and gay. 
The noisy world was scarce awake. Business had not quite 
shook erf his sound sleep, and riot had but just reclined his. 

* " Discourses on the vanity of the creature, which repre- 
sent the barrenness of every thing in the world, and its inca- 
pacity of producing any solid or substantial happiness, are use 
fuh — Those speculations also, which shew the bright side of 
things, and lay forth those innocent entertainments, which are 
to be met with among the several objects that encompass us, 
are no less beneficial." Spec. vol. V. No. 393. Upon the plan 
cf these observations; the preceding and following Reflections 
are formed. 



: 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 67 

giddy head. AH was serene ; all was still ; every thing tend- 
ed to inspire tranquillity of mind, and invite to serious thought. 

Only the wakeful lark had left her nest, and was mounting 
on high to salute the opening day. Elevated in air, she seem- 
ed to call the laborious husbandman to his toil, and all their 
fellow-songsters to their notes. — Earliest of birds, said I, com- 
panion of the dawn, may I always rise at thy voice ! rise to 
offer the matin-song, and adore that beneficent Being, " who 
maketh the outgoings of the morning and evening to rejoice.*' 

How charming to rove abroad, at this sweet hour of prime / 
to enjoy the calm of nature, to tread the dewy lawns, and taste 
the unrifled freshness of the air ! 

Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
With charm of earliest birds. * 

What a pleasure do the sons of sloth lose > Little, ah ! little is 
the sluggard sensible, how delicious an entertainment he fore* 
goes, for the poorest of all animal gratifications, f 

The greyness of the dawn decays gradually. Abundance of 
ruddy streaks tinge the fleeces of the firmament ; till, at length, 
the dappled aspect of the East is lost, in one ardent and bound- 
less blush. — -Is it the surmise of imagination, or do the skies 
really redden with shame, to see so many supinely stretched 
on their drowsy pillows ?— - Shall man be lost in luxurious ease? 
shall man waste these precious hours in idle slumbers ? while 
the vigorous sun is up, and going his Maker's errand? while 
all the feathered choir are hymning their Creator, and paying 
their homage in harmony ? — No. Let him heighten the me- 
lody of the tuneful tribes, by adding the rational strains of 
devotion. Let him improve the fragrant oblations of nature, 
by mingling with the rising odours, the more refined breath 
of praise. 

* Milton's Par. Lost. b. iv. lin. 641. 

f See ! how revelation and reason, the scriptures and the 
classics, unanimously exhort to this most beneficial practice. 
They both invite to early rising, by the most engaging motives, 
and the most alluring representations. 

Come my beloved, let us go forth into the field ; let us ledge 
in the villages. Let us get up early to the vineyards ; let us see 
if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the 
pomegranates bud forth. Cant. vii. 11, 12. 
Luciferi prime cum sidere, frigida rura 
Carpamus : dum mane novum, dum gramina canent, 
Mt ros in Unera pecori gratissimas herba est. 

Virg. Gear, III. 



68 REFLECTIONS 

It is natural for man to look upward ;* to throw his first 
glance upon the objects that are above him. 

Straight towards heaven my wondYmg eyes I turn'd, 
And gaz'd awhile the ample Sky.f 

Prodigious theatre ! where lightnings dart their fire, and 
thunders utter their voice ; where tempests spend their rage, 
and worlds unnumbered roll at large I — O the greatness of that 
mighty Hand, which meeteth out this amazing circumference 
with a span ! O the immensity of that wonderful Being, be- 
fore whom this unmeasurable extent is no more than a point ! 
—-And O (thou pleasing thought !) the unsearchable riches of 
that mercy \vhic|i is greater than the heavens !% is more en- 
larged and extensive in its gracious exercise, than these illimi- 
table tracts of air, and sea, and firmament ! which pardons 
crimes of the most enormous size, and the most horrid aggra- 
vations ; pardons them in consideration of the Redeemer's 
atonement, with perfect freeness, and the utmost readiness \ 
more readily, if it were possible, than all-surrounding expanse 
admits, within its circuit a ridge of mountains, or even a grain 
of sand. 

Come hither, then, ye awakened, trembling sinners. Come, 
weary and heavy laden with a sense of your iniquities. § Con- 

* Os homini sublimo dcdit, cxlumque tueri 

y-assit, et erect®* ad sidera tollere vulttis. Ovix>. 

•j- Milton's Par. Lost, b. viii. lin. 257* 
\ Psalm cviii. 4. 
§ The lines which follow, are admirably descriptive of the 
spirit and practice hinted above. In them desire pcuits ; prayer 
trestles: and faith, as it were, grasps the prize. I take leave 
to transplant them into this place ; and I could wish them a 
better, a more conspicuous situation than either their new or 
their native soil. Their native soil is no other than the lamen- 
tations of a sinner, written by Mr. Sternhold. Notwithstand- 
ing the unpromising genius of the performance, I think we may 
challenge the greatest masters to produce any thing more spirit- 
ed and importunate ; more full of nature, or more flushed with 
life. 

Mercy, good LORD, mercy I crave ? 

This is the total sum : 
For mercy, LORD, is all my suit; 
LORD, let thy mercy come. 
The short sentence — not a single copulative — the frequent re- 
petition of the divine name — the almost incessant reiteration of 
the blessing, so passionately desired, and inexpressibly needed 
— This is the genuine language of ardor ; these are beauties ob- 
vious to every eye ; and cannot fail, either to please the judi- 
cious taste, or to edify the gracious heart. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 69 

demn yourselves. Renounce all reliance on any thing of your 
own. Let your trust be in ike tender mercy of God, forever 
and ever. 

In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun. % ~~~ Behold him 
coming forth from the chambers of the East. See the clouds, 
like floating curtains, are thrown back at his approach. With 
what refulgent majesty does he walk abroad ! How transceu- 
dantly bright is his countenance, shedding day and inexhaust- 
ible light, through the universe ! is there a scene, though fi- 
nished by the most elaborate and costly refinements of art, 
'* comparable to these illustrious solemnities of opening sun- 
shine ? Before these, all the studied pageantry of the theatre, 
the glittering ceconomy of an assembly, or even the heightened 
ornaments of a royal palace, hide their diminished heads, and 
shrink into nothing."— I have read of a person so struck with 
the splendors of this noble luminary, that he imagined himself 
made on purpose to contemplate its glories. O ! that Chris- 
tians would adopt his persuasion, and transfer it to the Sun of 
righteousness ! Thus applied, it would cease to be a chimerical 
notion, and become a most important truth. For sure I am, 
it is the supreme happiness of the eternal state, and therefore 
may well be the ruling concern of this present life, to know the 

only true GOD, and JESUS CHRIST whom he hath sent- 

Nor do I stand alone in this opinion. The very best judge of 
whatever is valuable in science, or perfective of our nature ; a 
judge who formed his taste on the maxims of paradise, and re- 
ceived the finishing of his education hi the third heavens ; this 
judge determines to know nothing but JESUS CHRIST, and 
him crucified. He possesseth, in his own person, the finest, 
the most admired accomplishments ; yet pronounces them no 
better than dung, in comparison of the super-eminent excel- 
lency of this saving knotviedge.f 

Methinks, I discern a thousand admirable properties in the 
sun. It is certainly, the best material emblem of the Creator. 
There is more of God in its lustre, energy, and usefulness, 
than in any other visible being. To worship it as a deity, was 
the least inexcusable of all the Heathen idolatries. One scarce 
can wonder, that fallen reason should mistake so fair a copy 
for the adorable original. No comparison, in the whole book 
of sacred wisdom, pleases me more, than that which resem- 
bles the blessed Jesus, to yonder regent of the day ;X who 
now advances on his azure road, to scatter light, and dispense 
gladness, through the nations. 

* Psalm xix. 4. f p hil. iii. 7, U. 

$ Unto yow that fear my name, shall the sun of righteous- 
ness arise,, with healing in his wings, Mai. iv. 2. 



70 REFLECTIONS 

What were all the realms of the world, but a dungeon of 
darkness, without the beams of the sun ? All their line scenes, 
hid from our view, lost in obscurity.— In vain we roil around 
our eyes, in the midnight gloom, fn vain we strive to behold 
the features of amiable nature. Turn whither we will, no 
form of comeliness appears. All seems a dreary waste ; an 
Undistinguished chaos ; 'till the returning hours have unbarred 
the gates of light, and let forth the morn. — Then, what a 
prospect opens ! The heavens are paved with azure, and strew- 
ed with roses. A variety of the liveliest verdures array the 
plains. The flowers put on a glow of the richest colours. 
The whole creation stands forth, dressed in all the charms of 
beauty. The ravished eye looks round and wonders. 

And what had been the condition of our intellectual nature, 
without the great Redeemer, and his divine revelation f— 
Alas ! what absurd and unworthy apprehensions did the Pagan 
sages form of God ! What idle dreams, what childish con- 
jectures, were their doctrines of that future state. — How did 
the bulk, even of a favoured nation, the Jews, weary them-' 
selves in every vanity, to obtain peace and reconciliation with 
their offended Jehovah ! till Jesus arose upon our benight- 
ed minds, and brought life and immortality to light ; till HE 
arose to enlighten the wretched Gentiles, and to be the glory of 
his people Israel. 

Now we no longer cry out, with a restless impatience, Where 
is GOD my Maker ? for we are allowed to contemplate the 
brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, 
in the face of JESUS CHRIST.— Now we no longer enquire, 
with an unsatisfied solicitude, " Which is the way to bliss ?" 
because Jesus has marked the path by his shining example ; 
3nd left us an unerring clue, in his holy word.— Now we have 
no reason to proceed with misgiving hearts in our journey to 
eternity, or to ask anxiously as we go, " Who will roll away 
the stone, and open the everlasting doors ? Who will remove 
the flaming sword, and give us admission into the delights of 
paradise?'' For it is- done, all done, by the Captain of our 
salvation. Sin he has expiated, by the unblemished sacrifice 
of himself. The law he has fulfilled, by his perfect obedience. 
The sinner he transforms, by his sanctifying Spirit— In a 
word, he hath both presented us with a clear discovery of good 
things to come, and administered to us an abundant entrance 
into the final enjoyment of them. 

Whenever, therefore, we bless God for the circling seasons 
and revolving day, let us adore, thankfully adore him, for the 
more precious appearance of the Sun of righteousness, and his 
glorious gospel. Without which, we should have been grop- 
ing, even to this hour, in spiritual darkness, and the shadovi 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. f 1 

of death. Without which, we must have wandered in a maze 
of inextricable uncertaiKties, and have " stumbled upon the 
dark mountains" of error, till we fell into the bottomless pit 
of perdition. 

Without that grand enlivening principle, what were this 
earth, but a lifeless mass ? a rude lump of inactive matter ? 
The trees could never break forth into leaves, nor the plants 
spring up into meadows mantled over with green, nor the val« 
leys standing thick with corn. Or, to speak in 'the beautiful 
language of a prophet, No longer would the Jig-tree blossom, 
nor fruit be in the vine : The labour of the olive would fail, 
and the fields could yield no meat : The flocks must be cut off 
from the fold, and there would be no herd in the stalls.* — The 
sun darts its beams among all the vegetable tribes, and paints 
the Spring, and enriches the Autumn. This pierces to the 
roots of the vineyard and the orchard, and sets afloat those 
fermenting juices, which at length burst into floods of wine, 
or bend the boughs with a mellow load.— Nor are its favours 
confined to the upper regions; but distributed into the deepest 
recesses of creation. It penetrates the beds of metal, and finds 
its way to the place of the sapphires. It tinctures the seeds 
of gold, that are ripening into ore; and throws a brilliancy 
into the water of the diamond, that is hardening on its rock. 
—In short, the beneficial agency of this magnificent lumi- 
nary is inexpressible. It beautifies and impregnates, universal 
nature. " There is nothing hid from the heat thereof." 

Just in the same manner, were the rational world dead in 
trespasses and sins without the reviving energy of Jesus 
Christ. He is " the resurrection and the life ;" the over- 
flowing fountain of the one, and the all-powerful cause of the 
other. The second Adam is a quickening spirit, and all his 
saints live through him* He shines upon their affections ; and 
they shoot forth into heavenly graces, and abound in the fruits 
of righteousness. Faith unfeigned, and love undissembled, 
those noblest productions of the renewed nature, are the effects 
of his operation on the mind. Not so much as one divine dis- 
position could spread itself, not one Christian habit unfold and 
flourish, without the kindly influence of his grace. 

As there is no truitfulness, so likewise no cheerfulness, with- 
out the sun.f When that auspicious sovereign of the day 

diffuses the mildness of his morning-splendor, he creates an 

* H*t>. iii. 17. 
•J- " The sun, which is as the great soul of the universe, and 
produces all the necessaries of life, has a particular influence 
in cheering the mind of man, and making the heart glad.'* 

Spect. Vol. V. No. 33r. 



72 REFLECTIONS 

universal festival. Millions of glittering insects awake Into ex- 
istence, and bask in his rays. The birds start from their 
slumbers, and pour their delighted souls in harmony. The 
flocks, with bleating accents, hail the welcome blessings. The 
herds, in lowing murmurs, express their hoarser acclamations. 
The valleys ring with rural music : the hills echo back the 
artless strains. All that is vocal, joins in the general choir ; all 

that has breath, exults in the cheering influence. Whereas, 

vras that radiant orb extinguished, a tremendous gloom would 
ensue, an&horror insupportable. Nay, let it only be eclipsed 
for a few minutes, and all nature assumes an air of sadness. 
The heavens are wrapt in sables, and put on a kind of mourn- 
ing. The most sprightly animals hang down their dejected 
heads. The songsters of the grove. are struck dumb. Howl- 
ing beasts roam abroad for prey, omnious birds come forth 
and screech ; the heart of man fails, on a sudden pangs seize 
the foreboding mind. — So when Christ hides away his face, 
when faith loses sight of that consolation of Israel, how gloomy 
are the prospects of the soul ! Our God seems to be a consum- 
ing fire, and our sins cry loudly for vengeance. The thoughts 
bleed inwardly ; the Christian walks heavily. All without is 
irksome ; all within is disconsolate. Lift up then, most gra- 
cious Jesus, thou noble day-spring from on high! O lift up 
the light of thy countenance upon thy people ! reveal the ful- 
ness of thy mediatoral sufficiency ; make clear our title to this 
great salvation, and thereby impart 

What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, 
The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy.* 

In one instance more, let me pursue the similitude. The 
sun, I observe, pours his lustre all around, to every distance, 
and in every direction. Profusely liberal of his gifts, he illu- 
minates and cheers all the ends of the earth, and the whole 
compass of the skies. The East reddens with his rising radi- 
ance, and the Western hills are gilded with his streaming 
splendors. The chilly regions of the North are cherished by 
his genial warmth, while the Southern tracts glow with his 

fire. Thus are the influences of the Sun of righteousness 

diffusive and unconfined. The merits of his precious death 
extended to the first, and will be propagated to the last ages 
of mankind May they, ere long, visit the remotest cli- 
mates, and darkest corners of the earth ! Command thy gospel, 
blessed Jesus, thy everlasting gospel, to take the wings of the 
morning, and travel with yonder sun. Let it fly upon strong 
pinions among every people, nation, and language ; that where 
* Hope's Ethic Ep. 






ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 73 

the beat scorches, and the cold freezes, thou mayest be known, 
confessed, and adored ! that strangers to thy name, and ene- 
mies to thy doctrine, may be enlightened with the knowledge, 
and won to the love of thy truth ! O may that best of a^ras 
come ! that wished-for period advance, when all the ends of 
the world shall remember themselves, and be turned, unto the 
LORD ; and all the kindreds of the nations worship before 
him .'* 

From the heavens we retire to the earth. Plere the drops 

of dew, like so many liquid chrystals,+ sparkle upon the eye. 
How brilliant and unsullied is their lustre ! How little inferior 
to the proud stone which irradiates a monarch's crown ! They 
want nothing but solidity and 'permanency, to equal them with 

the finest treasures of the jewellers casket. But here indeed, 

they are greatly deficient, short-lived ornaments, possessed of 
little more than a momentary radiance. The sun, that lights 
them up, will soon melt them into air, or exhale them into 
vapours. Within another hour, we may " look for their place* 
and they shall be away." — - — O ! may every good resolution of 
mine, and of my stocks ; may our united breathings after God, 
not be like these transient decorations of the morning, but like 
the substantial glory of the growing day ! The one shines more 
and more with augmented splendors ; while the other, having 
glittered gaily for a few moments, disappear and are lost. 

How sensibly has this dew refreshed the vegetable king- 
doms ' The fervent heat of yesterday's sun had almost parched 
the face, and exhausted the sweets, of nature. But what a 
sovereign restorative are there cooling distillations of the night ! 
how they gladden and invigorate the languishing herbs! 
Sprinkled with these reviving drops, their verdure deepens ; 
their bloom is new flushed ; their fragrance, faint or -intermitted, 
becomes potent and copious.- — -Thus does the ever-blessed 
Spirit revive the drooping troubled conscience of a sinner. 
When that almighty Comforter sheds his sweet influence on 
the soul, displays the all-sufficient sacrifice of a divine Redeem- 
er, and '* witnesses with our spirit," that we are interested in 
the Saviour, and, by this means, are children of GOD ; then, 
what a pleasing change ensues ! Former anxieties remembered 
no more. Every uneasy apprehension vanishes. Soothing 
hopes, and delightful expectations, succeed. The counte- 
nance drops its dejected mien ; the eyes brighten with a lively 
cheerfulness; while the lips express the heart-felt satisfaction, 

* Psakn. xxii. 27. 
•f Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime 

Advancing, sowed the earth with orient /war/.— --Milt, 

g 



74 REFLECTIONS 

in the language of thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.— ~— 
In this sense, merciful God, be as the dew of Israeli ~" Pour 
upon them the continual dew of thy blessing." And O ! let 
not my fleece be dry, while heavenly benediction descends 
upon all aroand. 

Who can number these pearly drops? They hang on every 
hedge, they twinkle from every spray, and adorn the whofe 
herbage of the field. Not a blade of grass, not a single leaf, 
but wears the watry pendants. So vast is the. profusion, that 
it bathes the arithmetician's art.— Here let the benevolent mind 
contemplate and admire that emphatical scripture, which, 
from this elegant similitude, describes the increase of the Mes- 
siah's kingdom. The royal prophet, speaking of Christ, 
and foretelling the success of his religion, has this remarkable 
expression ; The dew of thy birth is of the wo?nbof t/w morn- 
ing.* (i. e.) As the morning is the mother of dews ; produces 

* Fsal. ex. 3. The most exact translation of this difficult pas- 
sags is, I apprehend as follows : Free, rore uteri auroras, tibi est 
rot juventutis velprolis tux ; The dew of thy birth is Jarger, more 
copious, than the dew which proceeds from the womb of the 
morning. — I cannot acquiesce in the new version ; because that 
disjoins the womb of the morning from the dew of thy birth. Where- 
as, they seem to have a clear affinity, and a close connection. 
The womb of the morning is, with the utmost pertinency, ap- 
plied to the conception and production of dews ; agreeably to a 
delicate line, in that great master of just description, and lively- 
painting, Mr. Thomson. 

The meek-eyed mom appears, mother (fdews. Summer. 

We meet with a fine expression in the book of Job, which 
jnay serve to confirm this remark ; may illustrate the propriety 
ef the phrase used in this connection : " Hath the rain a fa- 
ther, or who hath begotten the drops, of dew ?* It seems, the ori- 
ental writers delighted to represent the dew as a kind of birth, 
as the offspring of the morning. And if so, surely there could 
be no image in the whole compass of the universe, better adapt- 
ed to the psalmist's purpose, or more strongly significant of 
those multitudes of proselytes which were born, not of blood, nor 
of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of GOD ; by 
the powerful energy of his word and Spirit. — Upon this suppo- 
sition, the whole verse describes 

The willing subjection, "Y 

The gracious accomplishments, > of Christ's converts. 

And the vast number, j 

q. d. In the day of thy power, when thy glorious gospel shall be 
published in the world, and accompanied with marvellous effi- 
cacy. — In 'hat memorable period, thy people, discontinuing the 
former oblations commanded under the Mosaic law, shall de- 






ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 75 

them, as it were, from a prolific womb ; and scatters them with 
the most lavished abundance over all the face of the earth ; 

vote themselves as so many living sacrifices to thy honour. Not 
constrained by force, but charmed with thy excellency, they 
shall come in volunteer^ to thy service, and he free-will offerings 
in thy church. — Neither shall they be " empty vines," or bare 
professors; but shall walk in all the. beauties of. holiness,. and 
bring forth such amiable fruit, as will- adorn the doctrine they 
embrace. What is still more desirable, they shall be as nume- 
rous, as they are willing and holy. Born to thee in numbers, 
immense and inconceivable ; exceeding even the countless my- 
riads of dew drops, which are begotten by the night, and issue 
from the womb of the recent morning. 

By this interpretation, the text, I think, is cleared of its ob- 
scurity ; and appears both truly sublime and perfectly just. 

May I be pardoned the digression, and acquitted from presump- 
tion, if, on this occasion, I take leave to animadvert upon 
what seems harsh and unnatural in the common exposition of 
the last verse of this psalm? All the commentators (as many 
at least, as I have consulted) inform their readers, that to 
drink of the brook in the way, signifies, to undergo sufferings, and 
death ; which, in my opinion, is a construction extremely forc- 
ed, and hardly supportable ; altogether remote from the im- 
port of such poetical forms of diction, customary among the 
Eastern nations. In those sultry climes, nothing could be 
more welcome to the traveller, than a brook streaming near 
his paths. To quench his thirst, andiave his feet, in the cool- 
ing current, was one of the greatest refreshments imaginable, 
and re-animated him to pursue his journey. For which reason, 
among others, brooks are a very favourite image with the in- 
spired penman ; used to denote a situationjfertzV* and delightful , 
or a state of pleasure and satisfactim ; but never, that I recol- 
lect, to picture out the contrary condition of tribulation an$l 
distress. 

The v&ater-floods, indeed, in the sacred writings, often repre- 
sent some imminent danger, or grievous affliction. But then 
they are not— streams so calm, that they keep within their 
banks, and glide quietly by the traveller's footsteps ; so clear t 
that they are fit for the wayfaring man's use, and invite his 
lips to a draught; both which notions are plainly implied in the 

text They are rather — boisterous billows bursting over a 

£hip, or ^dashin ^themselves with dreadful impetuosity, upon 
the shore : Or — —sweeping inundations ; which bear down all 
before them, and drown the neighbouring country. — Besides, 
in these instances of horror, we never find the phrase, He shall 
drink; which conveys a pleasing idea ; unless when it relates to 
a eup filled with bitter, intoxicating or empoisoned liquors ; 
a case quite different from that under consideration. 



76 REFLECTIONS 

so shall thy seed be, O thou everlasting Father ! By the preach- 
ing of thy word, shall such an innumerable race of regenerate 
children be born onto thee, and prove an ornament and blessing 
to all ages. Millions, millions of willing converts, from every 
nation under heaven, shall croud into thy family, and replen- 
ish thy church till they become like the stars in the sky, or the 
sands of the sea for multitude; or even as numberless as these 

fine spangles which now cover the face of nature. Behold 

tiien, ye obstinately wicked, though you u are not gathered, 
yet will the Saviour be glorious." His design shall not mis- 
carry, nor his labour prove abortive ; though you render it of 
Done effect with regard to yourselves. Think not, that Im- 
manuel will want believers, or heaven inhabitants, because 
you continue incorrigible. No, the Lamb that was slain, will 
" see the travail of his soul, *n& be. satisfied ;" in a never-failing 
series of faithful people below, and an immense choir of glorifi- 
ed saints above, who shall form his retinue, and surround his 
throne in shilling and triumphant armies, such as no man can 
number. 

Here I was reminded of the various expedients which Pro- 
vidence, unsearchably wise, uses to fructify both the mate- 
rial and intellectual world. — Sometimes, you shall have impe- 
tuous and heavy showers bursting from the angry clouds. — 

Upon the whole, may not the passage more properly alude 
to the influences of the Holy Ghost P which were communicated 
in in. measurable degrees to our great High Priest ; and were 

in fuct, the cause of his surmounting all difficulties. These 

are frequently represented by waters;— — " Whoso believeth 
on me, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living waters." The 
enjoy menr of them is, described by drinking ; " He that drinketb 
of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst. 1 ' 
Then the sense may run in this well connected and perspicu- 
ous manner. It is asked, How shall the Redeemer be able to 
execute the various and important offices foretold in the pre- 
ceding parts of the psalm? The prophet replies, He shall drink 
of the bro@k in the way. He shall not be left barely to his human 
nature, which must unavoidably sink under the tremendous 
work of recovering a lost world ; but, through the whole course 
of his incarnate state, through the whole administration of his 
mediatorial kingdom, shall be supported with omnipotent suc- 
cours. He shall drink at the brook of Almighty power, and 
travel on in the greatnessof uncreated strength. — Therefore shall 
he lift up his head. By this means shall he be equal to the pro- 
digious task, and superior to all opposition. By this means 
shall he be thoroughly successful in whatsoever he imdertakes ; 
and greatly triumphant over all his enemies. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 77 

They iash the plains and make the rivers foam. A storm 

brings them, and a deluge follows them. At other times, 

these gentle dews are formed in the serene evening air. They 
steal down by slow degrees, and with insensible stillness ; so 
subtle, that they deceive the nicest eye ; so silent, that they 
escape the most delicate ear ; and, when fallen, so very light, 
that they neither bruise the tenderest, nor oppress the weakest 
flower. — -Very different operations. 1 yet each concurs in the 
same beneficial end, and both impart fertility to the lap of 
nature. 

So, some persons have I known reclaimed from the unfruit- 
ful works of darkness, by violent and severe means. The 
Almighty addressed their stubborn hearts, as he addressed the 
Israelites at Sinai, with lightning in his eyes and thunder in 
Lis voice The conscience smit with a sense of guilt, and 
apprehensive of eternal vengeance, trembled through all her 
powers, just as that strong mountain tottered to its centre* 
Pangs of remorse, and agonies of fear, preceded their new 
birth. They were reduced to the last extremities, almost 
overwhelmed with despair, before they found rest in Jesus 
Christ. — Others have been recovered from a vain conversa- 
tion, by methods more mild and attractive. The Father of 
spirits applied himself to their teachable minds, in a " still and 
small voice." His grace came down, as the rain into a fleece 
of wool, or as those softening drops, which now water the. 
earth. The kingdom of God took place in their souls, with- 
out noise or observation. They passed from death unto life, 
from a carnal to a regenerate state, by almost imperceptible 
advances. The transition resembled the growth of corn ; was 
very visible when effected ; though scarce sensible while ac- 
complishing. — O thou Author and" Finisher of our faith, recall 
us from our wanderings, and re-unite us to thyself! Whether 
thou alarm us with thy terrors or allure us with thy smiles ; 
whether thou drive us with the scourge of conviction, or draw 
bs with the cords of love ; let us, in any wise, return to thee : 
for thou art our supreme good ; thou art our only happiness. 

Before I proceed farther, let me ascend the terrace, and take 
one survey of the neighbouring country. — What a prospect 
rushes upon my sight! How vast, how various, how " full 
and plenteous with all manner of store !" Nature's whole 
wealth?— What a rich and inexhaustible magazine is here, 
furnishing subsistence for every creature ! Methinks I read in 
these spacious volumes, a most lively comment upon that no- 
ble celebration of the divine beneficence, He openeth his hand, 
and fdleth all things living ivith pienteousness. 
G 2 



73 REFLECTIONS 

These are thy glorious works. Parent of good, 

Almighty \ Thine this universal -frame, 

Thus wond'rous fair ! thyself how wond'rous then 1 

Milton. 

The fields are coTered deep, and stand thick, with corn. 
They expand the milky grain to the sun ; while the gales, now 
inclining, now raising each flexile stem, open all their ranks 
to the agency of his beams ; which will soon impart a firm 
consistence to the grain, and a glossy golden hue to the ear, 
that they may be qualified to fill the barns of the husbandman 
with plenty, and his heart with gladness. 

Yonder lie the meadoios, smoothed into a perfect level ; 
decorated with an embroidery of the gayest flowers, and load- 
ed with spontaneous crops* of herbage ; which, converted 
into hay, will prove a most commodious provision for the bar- 
renness of Winter; will supply with fodder our serviceable ani- 
mals, when all the verdure of the plain is killed by frosts, or 
buried in snows. — A winding stream glides along the flowery 
margin, and receives the image of the bending skies, and wa- 
ters the roots of many a branching willow. It is stocked, no 
doubt, with a variety of fish, which afford a solitary diversion 
to the angler, and furnish for his table a delicious treat. Noi- 
ls it the only merit of this liquid element, to maintain the finny 
nation ; it also carries cleanliness, and dispenses fruiifulness, 
wherever it rolls the chrystal current. 

The pastures, with their verdant mounds, chequer the pros- 
pect, and prepare a standing repast for our cattle, There " our 
o&en are made strong to labour, and our sheep bring forth 
thousands and ten thousands." There the horse acquires vi- 
gour for the dispatch of our business, and speed to expedite our 
jouniies. From thence the kine bring home their udders, 
distended with one of the richest and healthiest liquors in the 
world. 

On several spots, a grove of trees, like some grand collonade, 
erects its towering head. Every one projects a friendly shade 
for the beasts, and creates a hospitable lodging for the birds. 
Every one stands ready, to furnish timber for a palace, masts 
for a navy, or, with a more condescending courtesy, fuel fox 
pur hearths. One of them seems skirted with a wild uncultiva- 
ted heath ; which, like wvll-disposed shades in painting, throws 
an additional lusise on the more ornamented parts of the land- 
scape. Nor is its usefulness, like that of a foil, relative only, 
but real. There several valuable creatures are produced, and 
accommodated, without any expence or care of ours. There, 

* 'Injus&a nj'ir ctcunt 

Grami ne~— Virg. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 79 

likewise, spring abundance of those herbs, which assuage the 
smart of our wounds, and allay the fiery tumults of the fever; 
which impart Horidity to our circulating fluids, add a more vi- 
gorous tone to our active solids, and thereby repay the decays 
of our enfeebled constitutions. 

Nearer the houses, we perceive an ample spread of branch- 
es, not so stately as the oaks, but more amiable for their annual 
services. A little while ago I beheld them ; and all was one 
beauteous, boundless waste of blossoms. The eye marvelled at 
the lovely sight, and the heart rejoiced in the prospect of au- 
tumnal plenty. But now the blooming maid is resigned for the 
useful matron. The flower is fallen, and the fruit swells out 
on every twig. — Breathe soft, ye winds ! O spare the tender 
fruitage, ye surly blasts ! Let the pear-tree succle her juicy 
progeny, till they drop into our hands, and dissolve in our 
mouths. Let the plumb hang unmolested upon her boughs, 
till she fatten her delicious flesh, and cloud her polished skin 
with blue. And as for the apples, that staple commodity of 
our orchards, let no injurious shocks precipitate them hnma- 
turely to the ground ; till revolving suns have tinged them 
with a ruddy complexion, and concocted them into an exqui- 
site flavour. Then, what copious hoards, what burnished 
rinds, and what delightful relishes, will replenish, the store- 
room ! Some, to present us with an early entertainment, and 
refresh our palates amidst the sultry heats. Some, tc borrow 
ripeness from the falling snows, and carry Autumn into the 
depths of Winter. Some, to adorn the salver, make a part of 
the desert, and give an agreeable close to our feasts.* Others, 
to fill our vats with a foaming flood, which, mellowed by age, 
may sparkle in the glass, with a liveliness and delicacy little 
inferior to the blood of the grape. 

I observe several small enclosures, which seem to be appre- 
hensive of some hostile visit from the North ; and therefore, 
are defended on that quarter, by a thick wood, or a lofty wall. 
At the same time, they cultivate an uninterrupted correspon- 
dence with the South, and throw open their whole dimensions 
to its friendly warmth. One, in particular, lies within the 
reach of a distinguishing view, and proves to be a kitchen-gar- 
den. It looks, methinks, like a plain and frugal republic. 
Whatever may resemble "the pomp of courts, or the ensigns 
of royalty* is banished from this humble community. None 
of the productions of the olitory affect finery, but all are habit- 
ed with the very perfection of decency. Here those celebrated 
qualities are eminently united, the utmost simplicity with the 

*- Ab a?oo 

Usque ad mala Hor, 



80 REFLECTIONS 

exactest neatness.* — A skilful hand has parcelled out the whole 
ground in narrow beds, and intervening valleys. The same 
discreet management has assigned to each verdant family, a 
peculiar and distinct abode. So that there is no confusion, 
amidst the greatest multiplicity ; because every individual 
knows its proper home, and all the tribes are ranged with per- 
fect regularity. If it be pleasing to behold their orderly situa- 
tion, and their modest beauties ; how much more delightful, 
to consider the advantages they yield ! What a fund of choice 
accommodations is here ! what a source of wholesome dain- 
ties ! and all, for the enjoyment of mqji. Why does the pars- 
ley with her frizzled locks, shag the border ; or why the celery 
with her whitening arms perforate the mold, but to render his 
soups savoury ? The asparagus shoots its tempering sterns, to 
offer him the first fruit of the season ; and the artichoke spreads 
its turgid top, to give him a treat of vegetable marrow. The 
tendrils of the cucumber creep into the sun ;f and though 
basking in its hottest rays, they secrete for their master, and 
barrel up for his use the most cooling juices of the soil. The 
beans stand firm, like hies of embattled troops ; the peas rest 
upon their props like so many companies of invalids ; while 
both replenish their pods with the fatness of the earth, on pur- 
pose to pour in on their owner's table. — Not one species, among 
all this variety of herbs is acumbererj: of the ground. Not a 
single plant, but is good for food, or some way salutary. With 
so beneficent an ceconomy , are the several periods of their min- 
istration settled that no portion of the year is left destitute of 
nourishing esculents. What is still more obliging, every por- 
tion of the year affords such esculents, as are best suited to the 
temperature of the air, and the state of our bodies. — Why 
then should the possessor of so valuable a spot envy the con- 
dition of kings ?J. since he may daily walk through rows of 

* Simplex munditis. Hor. 

f Virgil with, great conciseness, and equal propriety, describes 
the cucumber — 

— Tortusque per herbam 

Cresceret in ventrem cucumis. Georg. IV. 

Milton has (if we admit Dr. Bently'a alteration, which is 
I think, in this place unquestionably just) almost translated the 
Latin poet. 

— Forth crept 

The swelling gourd— Par, Lost, b. VII. 1. 320, 

J Hie rarum tamen in dumis olus, albaque circum 
Lilia, verbenasque premens vescumque papaver, 
Regum sequabat opes animis : seraque revertens 
Noctc domum, dupibus memas onerabat inemptis. 

Virg. George IV 



J. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 81 

peaceable and obsequious, though mute subjects : Everyone 
of which tenders him some agreeable present, and pays him 
a willing tribute; such as is most happily adapted, both to sup- 
ply his wants and to regale his taste ; to furnish him at once, 
with plenty and with pleasure. 

At a distance, one descries the mighty hills. — They heave 
their huge ridges along the clouds ; and look like the barriers 
of kingdoms or the boundaries of nature. Bare and deformed 
as their surface may appear, their bowels are fraught with in- 
ward treasures ; treasures lodged fast in the quarries, or sunk 
deep in the mines. From thence, industry may draw her im- 
plements to plough the soil, to reap the grain, and procure 
every necessary convenience. From thence, art may fetch her 
materials, to rear the dome, to swell the organ, and form the 
noblest ornaments of polite life. 

On the other side, the great deep terminates the view. 
There go the ships ; there is that Leviathan ; and there in that 
world of waters, an inconceivable number of animals have 
their habitation. — This is the capacious cistern of the universe, 
which admits, as into a receptacle, and distributes as from a 
reservoir, whatever waters the whole globe. There is not a 
fountain that gushes in the unfrequented desert, nor a rivulet 
that flows in the remotest continent, nor a clond that swims in 
the highest regions of the firmament, but is fed by this all-re- 
plenishing source. — The ocean is the grand vehicle of trade, 
and the uniter of distant nations. To us it is peculiarly kind, 
not only as it wafts into our ports the harvest of every climate, 
and renders our island the centre of traffic, but also as it secures 
us from foreign invasions, by a sort of impregnable intrench- 
ment* 

Methinks, the view of this profuse munificence inspires a 

* Whose rampart 'was the sea, Nahum iii. 8. 

I hope this little excursion into the country, will not be look- 
ed upon as a departure from my subject ; because a rural view, 
though no essential part of a garden, yet is a desirable appen- 
dage and necessary to complete its beauty. As usefulness is the 
most valuable property which can attend any production, this 
is the circumstance chiefly touched upon in the survey of the 
landscape. Though every piece of this extensive and diversi- 
fied scene is cast in the most elegant mould, yet nothing is cal- 
culated merely for shew and parade. You see nothing formed 
in the taste of the ostentatious obelisk, or insignificant pomp of 
the pyramid. No suck idle expences were admitted into that 
consummate plan, which regulated the structure of the universe. 
All the decorations of nature are nO less advantageous and orna- 
mental ,- such as speak the MAKER infinitely bene£cent,as well 
as incomparably magnificent. 



*2 REFLECTIONS 

secret delight, and kindles a disinterested good-will— While 
*' the little hills clap their hands," and the luxuriant n vallies 
laugh and sing," who can forbear catching the general joy ! 
who is not touched with lively sensations of pleasure h — While 
the everlasting Father is scattering blessings through his whole 
family, and crowning the year with his goodness, who does 
not feel his breast overflowing with a diffusive benevolence !— - 
My heart, I must confess', beats high with satisfaction, and 
breathes out congratulatory wishes, upon all the tenants of 
these rural abodes : " Peace be within your walls, as well as 
plenteousness around your dwellings." Live, ye highly fa- 
voured, live sensible of your benefits, and thankful to your 
benefactor. Look round upon these prodigiously large in* 
comes of the fruitful soil, and call them (for you have free 
leave) all your own. — Only let me remind you of one very 
important truth. Let me suggest, and may you never forget, 
you are obliged to Christ Jesus, for every one of these 
accommodations, which spring from the teeming earth, and 
the smiling skies. 

1. Christ made them,* when they were not. — —He fetch- 
ed them up from utter darkness, and gave them both their be- 
ing and their beauty. He created the materials of which they 

* When I ascribe the work of creation to the Son, I would 
fey no means be supposed to withhold the same honour from the 
eternal Father and ever blessed Spirit. The acts of those in- 
conceivably glorious persons, are, like their essence, undivided 
and one, but I chuse to state the point in this manner, because 
this is the manifest doctrine of the New Testament, is the ex- 
press belief of our church, and a most noble peculiarity of the 
gospel revelation. — I Chuse it also, because I would take every 
opportunity of inculcating and celebrating the divinity of the 
Redeemer : A truth which imparts an unutterable dignity to 
Christianity ; a truth, which lays an immovable foundation for 
'all the comfortable hopes of a Christian: a truth, which will 
render the mystery of our redemption, the wonder and delight 
of eternity; and with this truth, every one will observe, my 
assertion is inseparably connected. 

If any one questions, whether this be the doctrine of our 
church ? let the creed, which we repeat in our most solemn de- 
votions, determine his doubt : " I believe," says that form of 
sound words " in one Lord Jesus Christ, very God of very 
God, by whom ail things were made."— If it be farther enquired, 
from whence the Nicene fathers derived this article of their 
faith ? I answer, From the writings of the beloved disciple, 
who lay on the Saviour's bosom ; and of that great apostle, who 
t had been caught up into the third heaven. John i, 3. Cojoss, 
i. 16. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 83 

are composed, and moulded them into this endless multiplicity 
of amiable forms, and useful substances. He arrayed the hea* 
vens with a vesture of the miidest blue, and clothed the earth 
in a livery of the gayest green. His pencil streaked, and his 
breath perfumed, whatever is beautiful or fragrant in the uni- 
verse. His strength set fast the mountains ; his goodness gar- 
nished the vale ; and the same touch which healed the leper, 
wrought the whole visible system into this complete perfection. 

2. Christ recovered them when they were forfeited.-*- 
By Adam's sin, we lost our right to the comforts of life, and 
fruits of the ground. His disobedience was the most impious 
and horrid treason against the King of kings. Consequently 
his whole patrimony became confiscated ; as well the portion 
of temporal good things, settled upon the human race during 
their minority, as that everlasting heritage reserved for their 
enjoyment, when they should come to full age. But the 
" seed of the woman," instantly interposing, took off the at* 
tainder, and redeemed the alienated inheritance.— The first 
Adam being disinherited, the second Adam was appointed 
heir of all things, visible as well as invisible.* And we hold 
our possession of the former ■; we expect an instatement of the 
latter, purely by virtue of our alliance with him, and our un- 
ion with him. 

3. Christ upholds them, which would otherwise tumble 
into ruin.— -By him, says the oracle of inspiration, all things 
consist.^ His finger rolls the seasons round and presides over 
all the celestial revolutions. His finger winds up the wheels, 
and impels every spring, of vegetative nature. In a word, 

* Heh. i. 2.*-*— In this sense at least, Christ is the Saviour 
of all men. The former and latter ram ; the precious fruits of 
the earth ; food to eat, and raiment to put on; — -all these he 
purchased, even for his irreclaimable enemies. They eat of his 
bread, who lift up their heel against him. 

We learn from hence, in what a peculiar and endearing light 
the Christian is to contemplate the things that are seen. Heathens 
migkt discover an eternal pow r er, and infinite wisdom, in the 
structure of the universe : Heathens might acknowledge a most 
stupenduous liberality, in the unreserved grant of the whole fa- 
bric, with ay its furniture, to the service of man. But the 
Christian should ever keep in mind, his forfeiture of them, and 
the price paid to redeem them. He should receive the gifts of 
indulgent providence, as the Israelites received their law from 
the hand of a Mediator. Or rather, to him they should come, 
not only issuing from the stores of an unbounded bounty, but 
swimming (as it were) in that crimson tide, which streamed 
from hnmanueVs veins. 

t c&l l ir. 



84 REFLECTIONS 

the whole weight of the creation rests upon his mighty arm, 
and receives the whole harmony of its motion from his uner- 
ring eye. — This habitable globe, with all its rich appendages 
and fine machinery, could no more continue than they could 
create themselves. Stari they would into instant confusion, or 
drop into their primitive nothing, did not his power support, 
and his wisdom regulate them every moment. In conformity 
to his will, they subsist stedfast and invariable in their orders, 
and wait only for his sovereign nod to " fall away like water 
that runneth apace." 

4. Christ actuates them,* which would otherwise be life- 
less and insignificant. — Pensioners they are, constant pension- 
ers on his bounty, and borrow their aU from his fullness. He 
only has life ; and whatever operates, operates by an emana- 
tion from his all-sufficiency. Does the grape refresh you with 
its enlivening juices ? It is by a warrant received, and virtue 
derived from the Redeemer. Does bread strengthen your 
heart, and prove the staff of your life? Remember, that it is 
by the Saviour's appointment, and through the efficacy of his 
operation. You are charmed with his melody, when the 
" time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the 
nightingale is heard in your land." You taster's goodness in 
the luscious fig, the melting peach, and the musky flavour 
of the apricot. You smell his sweetness in the openin^honey 
suckle, and every odoriferous shrub. 

Could these creatures speak for themselves, they would, 
doubtless disclaim all sufficiency of their own, and ascribe the 

whole honour to their Maker. t{ We are servants," 

would they say, " of Him who died for you. Cisterns, only 
dry cisterns in ourselves, we transmit to mortals no more than 
the uncreated fountain transfuses into us. Think not, that, 
from any ability of our own, we furnish you with assistance, 
or administer to your comfort. It is the divine energy, the 
divine energy alone, that works in us, and does you good — 
We serve you, O ye sons of men, that you may love him who 
placed us in these stations. O ! love the Lord therefore all 
ye who are supported by our ministry, or else we shall groanf 
with indignation and regret, at your abuse of our services.-— 

* John v. 17. My father worketb hitherto, and Lworh ,• or, I 
exert that unremitting and unwearied energy, which is the life 
of the creation. — Thus the words are paraphrased by a master- 
ly expositor, who has illustrated the life of our blessed Lord in 
the most elegant taste of criticism, v/ith the most amiable spirit 
of devotion ; and without any mixture of the malignant spleen, 
or low singularities of a party. See the Family Expositor, vol. 
I. sect. 47. 

f Rom. viii. 22. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. $3 

Use us, and welcome; for we are your's, if ye are Christ's, 
Crop our choicest beauties: rifle ail our treasures ; accommo- 
date yourselves with our most valuable qualities ; only let us be 
incentives to your gratitude, and motives to your obedience." 

Having surveyed the spacious sky, and sent a glance round 
the inferior creation, it is time to descend from this eminence, 
and confine my attention to the beautiful spot below. — Here 
Nature, always" pleasing, every where lovely, appears with pe- 
culiar attractions. Yonder, she seems dressed in her disha- 
bille: grand, but irregular. Here, she calls in her hand-maid 
Art, and shines in all the delicate ornaments which the nicest 
cultivation is able to convey. Those are her common apart- 
ments, where she lodges hei ordinary guests'; this is her cabi- 
net of curiosities, where she entertains her intimate acquaint- 
ance. — My eyes shall often expatiate over those scenes of uni- 
versal fertility ; my feet shall sometimes brush through the 
thicket, or traverse the lawn, or stroll along the forest glade ; 
but to this delightful letreat, shall be my chief resort. Thither 
will i make excursions, but here will I dwell. 

If, from my low procedure, I may form an allusion to the 
most exalted practices, I would observe, upon this occasion, 
that the celebrated Erasmus, and our judicious Locke, having 
trod the circle of the sciences, and ranged through the whole 
extent of human literature, at length betook themselves solely 
to the Bible. Leaving the sages of antiquity, they sat inces- 
santly at the ket of Jesus. Wisely they withdrew from that 
immense multiplicity of learning; from those endless tracts of 
amusing erudition, where noxious weeds are mixed with whole- 
some herbs ; where is generally a much larger growth of prick- 
ly shrubs, than of fruitful boughs. They spent their mo4 ma- 
ture hours in those hallowed gardens, which God's own wis- 
dom planted ; which God's own Spirit watereth, and in which 
God's own Son is continually walking; where he meeieth 
those that seek him, and revealeth to them the glories of his 
person, and the riches of his goodness. 

Thus would I finish the remainder of my days ! Having 
just tasted (what they call) the politer studies, 1 would now 
devote my whole application to the lively oracles. From other 
pursuits 1 might glean, perharps, a few scattered fragments of 
low, of lean, of unsatisfactory instruction. From. .this I trust 
to reap a harvest of the subiimest truths ; the noblest improve- 
ments, and the purest joys.*— Waft me then, OL waft my 
mind to Siojfs consecrated bowers. Let my thoughts perpe- 

Quicquid docetur, Veritas; quicquld prXclpitur bonitas ; quk- 
quid romoitiitur, JeLicitas. 

H 



86 REFLECTIONS 

dually rove through the awfully pleasing walks of inspiration. 
Here groW those heaven-born plants, the trees of life and knov:~ 
(edge, whose ambrosial fruits we now may " take and eat, and 
live forever." Here flow those precious streams of grace and 
righteousness, whose living waters " whosoever drinks, shall 
thirst no more." And what can the fables of Grecian song, 
or the finest pages of Roman eloquence,— what can they exhi- 
bit, in any degree, comparable to these matchless prerogatives 

of revelation? Therefore, though I could not dislike to pay 

a visit now and then to my heathen masters, I vuultl live with 
the prophets and apostles. With those I would carry on some 
occasional correspondence ; but these should be my bosom- 
friends; my inseparable companions ; " my delight, and my 
counsellors." 

What sweets are these which so agreeably salute my nos- 
trils? They are the breath of the flowers ; the incense of the 
garden. — How liberally does the jessamine dispense her odo- 
riferous riches ? How deliciousiy has the woodbine embalmed 
this morning-walk ? The air is all perfume. — And is not this 
another most engaging argument, to forsake the bed of sloth ? 
Who would lie dissolved in senseless slumbers, while so many 
breathing sweets invite him to a feast of fragrancy ? especially 
considering, that the advancing day will exhale the volatile 
dainties. A fugitive treat they are, prepared only for the 
wakeful and industrious : Whereas, when the sluggard lifts his 
Jieavy eyes, the riowers will droop ; their fine scents be dissi- 
pated ; and instead of this refreshing humidity, the air will 
become a kind of liquid fire. 

With this very motive, heightened by a representation of 
the most charming pieces of morning scenery, the parent of 
mankind awakes his lovely consort. There is such a delicacy 
in the choice, and so much life in the description of those ru- 
ral images, that I cannot excuse myself, without repeating 
the whole passage.— Whisper it, some friendly genius, in the 
car of every one, who is now sunk in sleep, and lost to all 
these refined gratifications ! 

Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field 
Calls you : ye lose the prime, to mark how spring 
The tender plants, how blows the citron grove ; 
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed ; 
How Nature paints her colours ; how the bee 
Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweets.* 

How delightful is this fragrance! It is distributed in the 
nicest proportion ; neither so strong as to oppress the organs. 

* Milton's Par. Lost b. V. I 20. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 87 

nor so faint as to elude them. We are soon cloyed at a sump- 
tuous banquet, but this pleasure never loses its poignancy, ne- 
ver palls the appetite.— Here luxury itself is innocent; or ra- 
ther, in this case, indulgence is incapable of excess. — This 
balmy entertainment, not only regales the sense, but cheers 
the very. so i//;"* and, instead of clogging, elates its powers. — 
It puts" me in mind of that ever memorable sacrifice, which 
was once made in behalf of offending mortals. 1 mean the 
sacrifice of the blessed Jesus ; when he offered himself up to 
God, " for a sweet-smelling savour." Such the Holy Ghost 
styles that wonderful oblation, as if no image in the whole 
sensible creation, was so proper to give an idea of the in- 
effable satisfaction which the Father of mercies conceived, from 
that unparalleled atonement: as the pleasing sensations which 
such rich perfumes are capable of raising. " Thousands of 
Tarns, and ten thousand rivers of oil," from an apostate world, 
the most submissive acknowledgments, added to the most cost- 
ly offerings, from men of defiled hands, and unclean lips, 
what could they have effected? A prophet represents the 
u High and lofty One, that inhabiteth eternity," turning him- 
self aWay from such filthy rags; turning himself away, with 
a disdainful abhorrence, f as from the noisome steams of a 
dunghill, — But in Christ's immaculate holiness, in Christ's 
consummate obedience, in Christ's most precious blood- 
shedding, with what unimaginable complacency does justice 
rest satisfied, and vengeance acquiesce! — All thy works, O 
thou Surety for mined sinners ! all thy sufferings, O thou 
slaughtered Lamb of God ! as well as all thy garments, O 
thou Bridegroom of thy church ! smell of myrrh, aloes and 
cassia /£ They are infinitely more grateful to the eternal God- 
lieacl, than the choicest exhalations of the garden, than all 
the odours of the spicy East, can be to the human nostrils. 

As the altar of old sanctified the gift ; so this is the great 
propitiation, which recommends the obnoxious persons, and 
unprofitable services of the believing world. In this may my 
soul be interested ! by this may it be reconciled to the Father ! 
■ — There is such a leprous depravity cleaving to my nature, as 
pollutes whatever I perform. My most profound adorations 
and sincerest acts of religion, must not presume to challenge a 
reward, but humbly implore forgiveness § Renouncing* 

* Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart. Prov. xxvii. 9. 
t Amos v. 21, 22. $ Psalm xiv. 9. 

§ A writer of distinguished superiority, thus addresses the 
great Observer of actions, and Searcher of hearts ; and vindi- 
cates my sentiments, while he sojuirtly and beautifully utters 
his own : 



83 REFLECTIONS 

therefore myself in every instance of duty; disclaiming all sha- 
dow of confidence in any deeds of my own, may I now and 
evermore, be accepted through the Beloved. * 

What colours, what charming colours are here ! these, so 
nobly bo T d — and those, so delicately languid. What a glow 
is enkindled in some ! what a gloss shines upon others I In one, 
methinks, I seethe ruby with her bleeding radiance; in ano- 
ther, the sapphire with her sky-tinctured blue ; in all, such an 
exquisite iichne;s of dyes, as no other set "of paintings in the 
universe can boast. f — With -what a masterly skill is every one 
of the varying tints disponed ! Here they seem to be thrown on 
with an easy clash of sec urity arid freedom ; there they are ad- 
justed by the nicest touches of art and accuracy. Those which 
ibrmthe ground, are always so judiciously chosen, as to height- 
en the lustre of the superadded figures, while the verdure of the 
foliage, imparts new liveliness to the whole. Indeed whether 
they are blended or arranged, softened or contrasted, they are 
manifestly under the conduct of a taste that never mistakes, a 
felicity that never falls short of the vrry perfection of elegance. 
■ — Fine, inimitably fine, is the texture of the web, on which 
these shining treasures are displayed. ' What are the labours of 
the Persian looms, or the boasted commodities of Brussels, 

Lock down, great God ! with pity's softest eye, 
On a poor breathing particle of dust. 
His crimes forgive ; forgive his virtues too, 
Those smaller jaults half-converts to the right. 

Night noughts. No. IX* 
* See page 44 and 45 in the second edition of a most candid 
and evangelical little treatise, called, CHRISTIANITY, the 
great ORNAMENT of human life.W If christians happily 
avoid the dangerous extreme, and too often fatal rock, of a dead 
fruitless faith on the one hand, he (/. e. Satan) will endeavour, 
by all kind of plausible insinuations, to split them on the oppo- 
site, w2. spiritual pride, ostentation, and dependance on their 
works, as if THESE were the meritorious or procuring cause of 
alt true peace, hope, consolation, and divine acceptance. — Now, 
this self-dependance may be ranked among the most dangerous of 
the infernal politics, because the fatal poison lies deep, and too 
often uJidiscernedV 

| , -Who can paint 

Like Nature? Can imagination boast, 

Amid his gay creation, hues like these ? 

And ca^i he mix them with that matchless skill, 

And lay them on so delicately fine, 

And lose them in each other, as appears 

In every bud that blows I Tkoms. Spring, 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 89 

Compared with these curious manufactures of nature > Com- 
pared with these, the most admired chintzes lose their reputa- 
tion ; even superfine cambricks appear coarse as canvass in 
their presence. 

What a cheering argument does our Saviour derive from 
hence, to strengthen our affiance in God ! He directs us to 
learn a lesson of heaven-depending faith, from every bird that 
wings the air, and from every flower that blossoms in the field. 
If Providence, with unremitted care, supports those inferior 
creatures, and arrays these insensible beings with so much 
splendor ! Surely he will in no wise withhold from his elect 
children, " bread to eat, and raiment to put on." — Ye faithful 
followers ot the Lamb, dismiss every low anxiety relating to 
the needful sustenance of life. He that feeds the ravens, from 
an inexhaustible magazine ; he *hat paints the plants with such 
surpassing elegance ; in short, he that provides so liberally, 
both for the animal and vegetable parts of his creation ; will 
not, cannot, neglect his own people.— Fear not, Hit le flock, 
ye peculiar objects of Almighty love ! it is your Father's good 
pleasure to give you a hingdo?n* And, if he freely gives you 
an everlasting kingdom hereafter, is -it possible to suppose, tiiat 
he will deny you any necessary conveniences here ? 

One cannot forbear reflecting, in this place, on the too pre- 
vailing humour of being fond and ostentatious didressv\ Wh it 

* Luke xii. 32. 

f Mr. Addison has a fine remark on a female warrior, cele- 
brated by Virgil. He observes, that, with all her other great 
qualities, this little foible mingled itself; because, as the poet 
relates, an intemperate fondness for a rich and splendid suit of 
armour, betrayed her into ruin. In this circumstance, cur cri- 
tic discovers a moral concealed- This he admires as a neat, 
though oblique satire, On that trifling 1 >::: c ; on. Spec. v. I. No. 1.5, 

I would refer it te the judicious reader, whether there is not 
a beauty of the same .kind, but touched with a more inciter!/ 
hand, in the song of Deborah. — Speaking* of Sisera's mother, 
the sacred eucharistic ode represents her as anticipating, in her 
fond fancy, the victory ©f her son ; and indulging the follow- 
i n«- soliloquy : — Have they, not sped ? have they not divided the prey ? 
to Si sera a prey of divers colours ? a prey of divers colours of needle ~ 
worh, of divers colours of needle-work on both sides : meet for the 
necks of them that take the spoil ?— She takes no notice of the 
signal service her hero will do to his country, by quelling so 
dangerous an insurrection. She never reflects en the present 
acclamations, the future advancement, and the eternal renown, 
which are the tribute usually paid to a conqueror's merit. She 
can conceive, it seems, nothing greater, than to be clad in an 

H2 



90 REFLECTIONS 

an abject and mistaken ambition is this ! how unworthy the 
dignity of 'immortal, and the wisdom of rational beings .! espe- 
cially since these little productions of the earth have indisputa- 
bly the pre-eminence in such outward embellishments. — Go 
clothe thyself in purple and line linnen ; trick thyself up in all 
the gay attire, that the shuttle or the needle can furnish : Yet 
know, to the mortification of thy vanity, that the native ele- 
gance of a common daisy* eclipses all this elaborate finery. — 
Nay, wert thou decked like some illustrious princess, on her 
coronation day, in ail the splendor of royal apparel; could st 
thou equal even Solomon, in the height of his magnificence and 
glory ; yet would the meanest among the flowery populace 
outshine thee. Every discerning eye would give the prefer- 
ence to these beauties of the ground. f — Scorn then to borrow 
thy recommendations from a neat disposition of threads, and 
a curious arrangement of colours. Assume a becoming great- 
ness of temper. Let thy endowments be of the immortal kind. 
Hivdy to be all glorious "JiMhirt,. Be clothed with humility. 
Wear the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit. J To say all in a 

embroidered vesture ; and to trail along the ground a robe of 
the richest dyes. This is, in her imagination* the most lordly 
spoil he can win ; the most stately trophy he can erect. — It is 
also observable how she dwells upon the trivial circumstance, 
reiterating it again and again. It has so charmed her ignoble 
heart, so entirely engrossed her little views, that she can think 
of nothing else, speak of nothing else, and can hardly ever 
desist from the darling topic. — Is not this a keen, though deli- 
cately couched censure on that poor, contemptible, groveling 
taste, which is enamoured of silken finery, and makes the attri- 
butes of a butterfly, the idol of its affections ? 

How conspicuous is the elevated and magnificent spirit of 
that venerable mother in Israel, when viewed in comparison 
with the low, and < t turn of this Car.aanitish Lady / — 

Such strong anu beautiful contrasts are, I think, some of the 
most striking excellencies of poetic painting : And in no book 
are they more frequently used, or expressed with greater light, 
than in the sacred volume of inspiration. 

* Peaceful and lowly in their native soil, 
They neither know to spin, nor care to toil : 
Yet with confiess'd magnificence deride 
Our mean attire, and impotence of pride. Prior. 

f Mr. Cowley, with his usual brilliancy of imagination, styles 
ahem Stars of earth. 

| How beautifully does the prophet describe the furniture of 
■a renewed and heavenly mind, under the similitude of a rich and 
complete suit of apparel ! " I will greatly rejoice in the Lord : 
my soul shall be joyful in my God ; for he hath clothed me with 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 91 

wore), put on the Lord Jesus Christ :* Let his blood be 
sprinkled upon thy conscience, and it shall be whiter than the 
virgin snows. Let his righteousness, like a spotless robe, adorn 
thy inner man ; and thou shalt be amiable, even in the most 
distinguishing eye of God. Let his blessed Spirit dwell in 
thy heart ; and, under his sanctifying operations, thou shalt be 
made partakeDof a divine nature. 

These are real excellencies; truly noble accomplishments 
these. In this manner be arrayed, be beautified ; and thou 
wilt not find a rival in the feathers of a peacock, or the folia- 
tion of a tulip. These will exalt thee far above the low preten- 
sions of lace and embroidery. These will prepare thee to 
Etarrd in the beatific presence, and to take thy seat among the 
- angels of light. 

What an enchanting situation is this ! One can scarce be 
melancholy within the atmosphere of flowers, such lively hues, 
and such delicious odours, not only address themselves agree- 
ably to the senses ; but touch, with a surprising delicacy, the 
sweetest movement of the mind : 



-To the heart inspiring 



Vernalf delight and joy. Milt. b. iv. 

How 1 often have I felt them dissipate the gloom of thought, 
and transfuse a sudden gaiety through the dejected spirit! I 
cannot wonder, that Kings descend from their thrones, to walk 
amidst blooming ivory and gold ; or retire from the most sump- 
tuous feast, to be recreated with the more refined sweets of the 

the garments of salvation ; he hatb covered me with the robe 
of righteousness as a bridegroom decketh himself with orna- 
ments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels.'* Isa, 
Ixi. 14. 

* Rom. xiii. 10. 
f " I w t ouUI have my reader endeavour to MORALIZE this 
natural pleasure of the soul, and to improve this vernal delight, 
as Milton calls it, into a Christian virtue. When we find our- 
selves inspired with this pleasing instinct, this secret satisfac- 
tion and complacency, arising from the beauties of the creation % 
let us consider to whom we stand indebted for all these enter- 
tainments of sense ; and who it is that thus opens his hand, and 
fills the world with good. — Such a habitable disposition of mind 
consecrates every field and wood ; turns an ordinary walk into a 
morning and evening sacrifice : and will prove those transient 
gleams, which naturally brighten up and refresh the soul on 
such occasions, into an inviolable and perpetual state of bliss 
and happiness," Spec. vol. V. ko. 394. 



92 REFLECTIONS 

garden. I cannot wonder,, that queens forego, for a while; ffl 
compliments of a nation, to receive the tribute of a parterre ; or 
withdrawn from all the glitter of a court to be attended with the 
more splendid equipage of a bed of flowers. — But if this be so 
pleasing, what transporting pleasure must arise from the frui- 
tion of uncreated excellency ! O what unknown delight, to en- 
ter into thy immediate presence, most blessed Lord God ! to 
see thee, thou King of heaven, and Lord of glory,* -no lon- 
ger " through a glass darkly, but face to face !" to have all thy 
goodness, all thy greatness shine before us ; and be made glad 
for ever with the brightest discovery of thy perfections., with' 
the ineffable joy of thy countenance. 

This we cannot bear in our present imperfect state. The 
effulgence of unveiled Divinity, would dazzle a mortal sight, 
Our feeble faculties, would be overwhelmed with such a fulness 
of superabundant bliss ; and must lie oppressed, under such 
an exceeding great, eternal weight of glory.* — But, when this 
corruptible hath put on incorruption, the powers of the soul 
will be greatly invigorated ; and these earthly tabernacles will 
be transformed into the likeness of Christ's glorious body. 
Then, " though the moon shall be confounded, and the sun 
ashamed/'f when the Lord of hosts is revealed from heaven ; 
yet shall his faithful people be enabled to see him as he r is.% 

Here then, my wishes, here be fixed. Be this your deter- 
mined and invariable aim.— Here, my affections, here give a 
loose to your whole ardour. Cry out, in the language of in- 
spiration, This one thing have I desired of the Lord, which, 
with incessant earnestness, / will require ; that I may dwell in 
the celestial house of the Lord, all the days of my future life, 
to behold the fair beaidy of the Lord ;§ and to contemplate 
with wonder and adoration — with unspeakable and everlasting 
rapture all the attributes of the incomprehensible God- 
head. 

SOLOMON, a most penetrating judge of human nature, 
knowing how highly mankind is charmed with these fine (\u&- 
lities of flowers, has figured out the blessed Jesus, that " fair- 

* Isaiah represents the felicity of the righteous in the ever- 
lasting world, by this elegant and amiable image : Thine eyes 
shall see the king in his beauty.— Milton touches the same subject 
with wonderful elevation and majesty of thought. 
— - — ' — They walk with GQD y 
High in salvation and the climes of bliss. 
Words, which, like the fiery car, almost transport our affec- 
tions to these glorious abodes. Isa. xxxiix. 17. Milt. b. XL 
V..759L 

f Isa- xxiv. 22. 4 1 John iii. 2, § Psalm xxvii. 4, 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 93 

est among ten thousand," by these lovely representatives. He 
stvles.him fe Rose of Sharon,* and the Lilly of the Faliies ;f 
like the first, full of delights, and communicable graces ; like 
the last, exalted iu majesty and complete in beauty. — In that 
sacred pastoral, he ranges the creation ; borrows its most fin- 
ished forms : and dips his pencil in its choicest dyes, to pre- 
sent us with a sketch of the amiableuess of his person : His 
amjableness, who is the light of the world; the glory of his 
chinch ; the only hope, the sovereign consolation of sinners ; 
and exalted, infinitely exalted, not only above the sublimest 
comparison, but even, " above all blessing and praise." May 
I also make the same heavenly use of all sublunary enjoy- 
ments ! Whatever is pleasurable or charming below, let it raise 
my desire to those delectable objects which are above ; which 
will yield not partial, but perfect felicity ; nor4ransient, but 
never-ending, satisfaction and joy. — Yes, my soul, let these 
beauties in miniature always remind thee of that glorious per? 
son, in whom •" dwells ail the fulness of the Godhead bodily. n 
Let these little emanations teach thee to thirst after the eternal 
fountain. O ! may the creatures be thy constant clue to the 
Creator ! For this is a certain truth, and deserves thy frequent 
recollection, demands thy most attentive consideration, that 
the whole compass of finite perfection, is only a faint ray% shot 
from that immense source ;— -is only a small drop, derived from 
that inexhaustible ocean-— of all good. 

What a surprising variety is observable among the flowery 

* Can.ri.-1. 
Mains ut arboribus decori est, ut vitiims uv(S t 
Utque ro$<e campis y ut lillia vahbus alba. 
Si Chris tus decus omne suis. 

t By the lilly of the rallies I apprehend is meant, not the 
^flower which commonly passes under that denomination, and 
is comparatively mean ; but the grand, majestic, garden lilly, 
growing in a rich, irrignous soil, where it flourishes in the most 
ample manner, and arrives at the highest perfection. The cir- 
cumstances ©f the vallies, added by that sacred writer, is sig- 
nificant, not of the species, but of the place. — This is by far 
tke noblest interpretation, and most exactly suitable to the spi- 
ritual sense ; which intimates that the blessed Jesus delights to 
dwell, by the communication of his Spirit, in humble hearts.— 
JLilium valibus gaudens. 

I ^Thou sitt'st above all heavens, 

To us invisible, or dimly seen 

In these thy lower works ; yet these declare 

Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. 

Milton, b. V. 



©4 . REFLECTIONS 

tribes ! How has the bountiful hand of Providence diversified ] . 
these nicest pieces of his workmanship; added the charms of 
an endless novelty, to all their own perfections 1— A constant 
uniformity would soon render the entertainment tiresome* or 
insipid; therefore every species is formed on a separate plan, 
$.nd exhibits something entirely nezv. The fashion spreads 
not from family to family ; but every one has a mode of its 
own, which is truly original. The most cursory glance per- 
ceives an apparent difference, as well as a peculiar delicacy, in 
the airs and habits, the attitude and lineaments, of every 
distinct class. 

Some rear their heads with a majestic mien, and overlook, 
like sovereigns or nobles, the whole parterre. Others seem 
more moderate in their aims, and advance only to the middle 
stations; a genius turned for heraldry might term them the 
gentry of the border. While others, free from all aspiring 
views, creep unambitiously on the ground, and look like the 

commonalty of the kind. Some are intersected with elegant 

stripes, or studded with radiant spots. Some affect to be gen- 
teelly powdered, or neatly fringed ; while others are plain in 
their aspect, unaffected in their dress, and content to please 
with a naked simplicity. Some assume the monarch's purple; 
some look most becoming in the virgin's white; but black, 
doleful black, has no admittance into the wardrobe of spring. 
The weeds of mourning would be a manifest indecorum, when 
nature holds an universal festival. She should now inspire none 
but delightful ideas, and therefore always makes her appear- 
ance in some amiable suit,* — Here siit-ids a warrior, clad with 
crimson ; there sits a magistrate, robed in scarlet ; and yonder 
struts. a pretty fellow, that seems to have dipped his plumes in 
the rainbow, and glitters in all the gay colours of that resplen- 
dent arch. Some rise into a curious cup, or fall into a set of 
beautiful bells. Some spread themselves in a swelling tuft, or 
croud into a delicious cluster. — In some, the predominant stain 
softens by the gentlest diminution, till it has even stole away 
from itself. The eye is amused at the agreeable delusion ; and 
we wonder to find ourselves insensibly decoyed into a quite 
different lustre. In others, you would think, the fine tinges 
were emulous of pre-eminence. Disdaining to mingle, they 
confront one another with the resolution of rivals determined to 
dispute the prize of beauty, while each is improved, by the op- 
position, into the highest vivacity of complexion. 

How manifold are thy works, O Lord !f multiplied even 
to a prodigy. Yet in wisdom, consummate wisdom, hast thou 
made them all — How I admire the vastness of the contrivance, 

* *— — Nuncformosissitnus annus. Virg. 

f Psalm civ. 24. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 93 

ami the exactness of the execution! Man, feeble man, with 
difficulty accomplishes a single work. Hardly, and after ma- 
ny eilbrts, does he arrive at a tolerable imitation of someone 
production of nature. But the Almighty Artist spoke millions 
of substances into instantaneous being ; the whole collection 
wonderfully various, and each individual completely perfect. 
— — -Repeated experiments generally, 1 might say always, dis- 
cover errors or defects in our happiest inventions. Nay, what 
wins our approbation, at the present hour, or in this particular 
place, is very probably, in some remote period, or some distant 
clime treated ..with contempt. Whereas, these fine structures 
have pleased every taste, in every country, for almost six thou- 
sand years. Nor has any fault been detected in the original 
plan, nor any room left for the least improvement upon the first 
model. * All our performances, the more minutely they are 
scanecl , the more imperfect they appear. With regard to 
these delicate objects, the more we search into their proper- 
ties, the more we are ravished with their graces. They are 
sure to' disclose fresh strokes of the most masterly skill, in pro- 
portion to the attention with which they are examined. 

Nor is the simplicity of the operation less astonishing, than 
the accuracy of the workmanship, or the infinitude of the ef- 
fects. Should you ask, " Where, and what are the materials 
which beautify the blooming world? What rich tints, what 
splendid dyes, what stores of shining crayons, stand by the 
Heavenly Limner, when he paints the robe of nature?" 'Tis 
answered, His powerful pencil needs no such costly apparatus. 
A single principle, under his conducting hand, branches out 
into an immensity of the most varied, and most finished forms. 
The moist ure of the earth, and of the circumambient air, 
passed through proper strainers, and disposed in a range of 
pellucid tubes; this performs all the wonders, and produces 
all the beauties, of vegetation. This creeps along the fibres 
of the low spread moss, and climbs to the very tops of the* 
ldfty-waving cedars. This attracted by the root, and circula- 
ting through invisible canals; this bursts into gems, expands 
itself into leaves, and clothes the forest with all its verdant 
honours. — This onef plain and simple cause, gives birth to 

* Ecclcs. iii. 14. 1 know, that whatsoever God doth, it shall be 
for ever : Nothing- can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it, 

f " When every several effect has a particular separate cause 
this gives no pleasure to the spectator, as not discovering con- 
tiivance. But that work is beheld with admiration and delight, 
as the result of deep counsel, which is complicated in its parts „ 
and yet simple in its operations .* where a great variety of effects 
are seen to arise from one principle operating uniformly." 

Abemethy o?i the attributes, 



96 REFLECTIONS , 

all the charms, which deck the youth and maturity of the year, 
This blushes in the early hepatica, and flames in the late-ad- 
vancing poppy. This reddens into blood in the veins of the 
mulberry ; and attenuates itself into leafen gold to create a 
covering for the quince. This breathes in all the fragrant gales 
of our garden, and weeps odorous gum in the groves of ^Ara- 
bia. — So wonderful is our Creator in counsel, and so excellent 
ill ivorking,* 

In a grove of tulips, or a knot of pinks, one perceives a 
difference in almost every individual. Scarce any two are 
turned and tinctured exactly alike. Each allows himseif a 
little particularity in his dress, though all belong to one fami- 
ly ; so that they are various, and yet the same. — A pretty em- 
blem this of the smaller differences between Protestant Chris- 
tians. There are modes in religion, which admit of variation 
Without prejudice to sound faith or real holiness. Just as the 
cry on these pictures of the spring, may be formed after 
i variety of patterns, without blemishing their beauty or alter- 
ing their nature. — Be it so then, that in some points of incon- 
siderable consequence, several of our brethren dissent: Yet 
let us live amicably and sociably together ; for we harmonize 
in principles though we vary \n punctilios. Let us join in con- 
versation, and intermingle interests ; discover no estrangement 
of behaviour, and cherish no alienation of affection. U any 
strife subsists, let it be to follow our divine Master most closely, 
in humility of heart and unblameableness ©f life. Let it be to 
serve one another most readily, in all the kind offices of a cor- 
dial friendship. Thus shall we be united, though distinguish- 
ed ; united in the same grand fundamentals, though distin- 
guished by some small circumstantials ; united in one important 
bond of brotherly love, though distinguished by some slighter 
peculiarities of sentiment. 

Between Christians, whose judgments disagree only about 
a form of prayer, or manner of worship, I apprehend there is 
HO more essential difference, than between, flowers which bloom 
from the same kind of seed, but happen to be somewhat di- 
versified in the mixture of their colours. — Whereas, if one de- 
nies the divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ, and degrades 
the incarnate God to the meanness of a mere creature ; if ano- 
ther cries up the worthiness of human works, and depreciates 
the alone-meritorious righteousness of the glorious Mediator; 
if a third addresses the incommunicable honours to a finite be- 
ing, and bows to the image, or prays to the saint ;— These are 
errors, extremely derogatory to the Redeemer's dignity, 
and not a little prejudicial to the comfort of his people. Against 

* Isa. xxviii. 29* 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 97 

these to remonstrate ; against these to urge every argument, 
and use every dissuasive ; bespeaks not the most censorious 
bigot, but the friend of truth, and the lover of mankind. — 
Whereas to stand neuter and silent, while such principles are 
propagated, would be an instance of criminal remissness, ra- 
ther than of Christian moderation. For the persons we will 

not fail to maintain a tender compassion ; we will not cease to 
put up earnest intercessions ; we will also acknowledge and 
love whatever is excellent and amiable in their character. Yet 
we dare not subscribe their creed; we must not secrete our 
strong reasons ; we cannot remit our assiduous, but kind en- 
deavours, if by any. means we may reconcile them to a more 
scriptural belief, and a purer worship.* 

Another remarkable circumstance, recommending and en- 
dearing the flowery creation, is their regular succession. They 
make not their appearance all at once, but in an orderly rota- 
tion. While a proper number of these obliging retainers are 
in waiting, the others abscond ; but hold themselves in a pos- 
ture of service, ready to take their turn, and fili each his res- 
pective station, the instant it becomes vacant. Thesnozv* 

drop, foremost of the lovely train, breaks her way through 
the frozen soil, in order to present her early compliments to 
her lord. Dressed in the robe of innocency, she steps forth, 
fearless of danger ; long before the trees have ventured to un- 
fold their leaves, even while the icicles are pendant on our 
houses.— Next, peeps out the crocus, but cautiously, and 
with an air of timidity. She hears the howling blasts, and 
skulks close to her low situation. Afraid she seems to make 
large excursions from her root, while so many ruffian winds 
are abroad, and scouring along the aether.— Nor is the violet 
last, in this shining embassy of the year; which, with all the 
embellishments that would grace a royal garden, condescends 
to line our hedges, and grow at the feet of briars. Freely, 
and without any solicitation, she distributes the bounty of her 
emissive sweets : while herself, with an exemplary humility, 
retires from sight, seeking rather to administer pleasure, than 

* In some former editions, I expressed myself on this point 
unwarily and harshly. Rut my meaning and real sentiments 
were no other than those represented above. The reader, from 
such unguarded intimations, might too naturally be led to con- 
clude, that the author avows, and woild stir up, a spirit ef per- 
secution Rut this is a method of dealing with opponents in re- 
ligkus doctrines, which he disclaims as absurd ; and abhors as 
iniquitous. He is for no force, but that of rational conviction : 
for no constraint, but that of affectionate persuasion. Thus, if 
you please, compel them to come i?i, Luke xiv. 23. 

i 



98 REFLECTIONS 

to win admiration.^ Emblem, expressive emblem, of those 
modest virtues, which delight to bloom in obscurity ; which 
extend a cheering influence to multitudes, who are scarce ac> 
quainted with the source of their comforts! Motive, engaging 
motive, to that ever-active beneficence, which stays not for 
the importunity of the distressed, but anticipates their suit, 

and presents them with the blessings of its goodness ! The 

poor polyanthus that lately adorned the border with her spark- 
ling beauties, and transplanted into our windows, gave us a 
fresh entertainment, is now no more. I saw her complexion 
fade ; I perceived her breath decay ; till at length she expired, 
and dropt into her grave. — Scarce have we sustained this loss, 
but in comes the auricula, and more than retrieves it. Ar- 
rayed she comes, in a splendid variety of amiable forms, with 
an eye of chrystal, and garments of the most glossy sattin ; 
exhaling perfume, and powdered with silver. A very distin- 
guished procession this ! The favourite care of the flourist ! 
Scarce one among them, but is dignified with a character of 
renown, or has the honour to represent some celebrated toast. 
But these also, notwithstanding their illustrious titles, have ex- 
hausted their whole stock of fragrance, and are mingled with 
the meanest dust. — Who could forbear grieving at their de- 
parture, did not the tulips begin to raise themselves on their 
fine wands or stately stalks ? They flush the parterre with one 
of the gayest dresses that blooming nature wears. Did ever 
beau or belle make so gaudy an appearance, in birth-night 
suit ? Here one may behold the innocent wantonness of beauty. 
Here she indulges a thousand freaks, and sports herself in the 
most charming diversity of colours. Yet I should wrong her, 
were I to call her a coquette ; because she plays her lovely 
changes, not to enkindle dissolute aifections, but to display her 
Creator's glory. — Soon arises the anemone; encircled at the 
bottom with a spreading robe, and rounded at the top into -a 
beautiful dome. In its loosely flowing mantle, you may ob- 
serve a noble negligence ; in its gently-bending tufts, the nicest 
symmetry. I would term it the fine gentleman of the garden ; 
because it seems to have learned the singular address of uniting 
simplicity with refinement, of reconciling art and ease. — The 
same month has the merit of producing the ranunculus. All 
bold and graceful, it expands the riciies of its foliage ; and 
acquires by degrees, the loveliest enamel in the world. As 
persons of intrinsic worth disdain the superficial arts of recom- 
mendation, practised by fops ; so this lordly flower scorns to 
borrow any of its excellence from powders and essences. It 
needs no such attract! ves, to render it the darling of the curi- 
ous; being sufficiently engaging from the elegance of its ii- 
* Frodcsse .quani compici. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 99 

gure, the raclient variety of its tinges, and a certain superior 
dignity of aspect. Methinks nature improves in her operations. 
Her latest strokes are most masterly. To crown the collection, 
she introduces the carnation ; which captivates every eye with 
a noble spread of graces ; and charms another sense, with a 
profusion of exquisite odours. This single flower has centered 
in itself the perfections of all the preceding. The moment it 
appears, it so commands our attention, that we scarce regret 
the absence of the rest. — The gilly-fiower, like a real friend, 
attends you through all the vicissitudes and alterations of the 
season. While others make a transient visit only, this is ra- 
ther an inhabitant, than a guest in your gardens; adds fidelity 
to complaisance. 

It is in vain to attempt a catalogue of these amiable gifts. 
There is an endless multiplicity in their characters, yet an in- 
variable order in their approaches. Every month, almost 
every week, has its peculiar ornaments ; not servilely copying 
the works of its predecessor, but forming, still forming, and still 
executing some new design. So lavish is the fancy, yet so ex- 
act is the process of nature. 

Here let me stand a while, to contemplate this distribution 
of flowers, through the several periods of the year.— Were they 
all to blossom together, there would be at once a promiscuous 
throng, and at once a total privation. We should scarce have 
an opportunity of adverting to the dainty qualities of half; and 
must soon lose the agreeable, company of them all. But now, 
since every species has a separate post to occupy, and a distinct 
interval for appearing, we can take a leisurely and minute sur- 
vey of each succeeding set. We can view and review their 
forms : enter into a more intimate acquaintance with their 
charming accomplishments ; and receive all those pleasing 
services, which they are commissioned to yield.— This remark- 
able piece of ceconomy is productive of another very valuable 
effect. It not only places, in the most advantageous light, 
every particular community ; but is also a sure provisionary 
resource against the frailty of the whole nation. Or to speak 
more truly, it renders the flowery tribes a sort of immortal* 
corps. For though some are continually dropping, yet, by 
this expedient, others are as continually rising to beautify our 
borders, and prolong the entertainment. 

What goodness is this, to provide such a series of gratifica- 
tion for mankind ! both to diversify, and perpetuate the fine 

* In allusion to the celebrated practice of the Persian kings ; 

** who maintained for their life-guard a body of troops, called 

Immortal ; because it perpetually subsisted ; for as so®n as any 

of the men died, another was immediately put into his place." 

Robin's Ancient History t vol. II. 



L. of C, 



100 REFLECTIONS 

collation ! to take care, that our paths should be, in a manner; 
incessantly . strewed with flowers ! — And what tvisdom, to bid 
every one of these insensible beings know the precise juncture 
for their coming forth ! insomuch that no actor' on a stage can 
be more exact in performing his part ; can make a more regu- 
lar entry, or a more punctual exit. 

Who emboldens the daffodil to venture abroad in February, 
and to trust her flowering gold with inclement and treacherous 
skies ? Who informs the various tribes of fruit-bearing blossoms, 
that vernal suns, and a more genial warmth, are 'fitted for their 
delicate texture? Who teaches the clove to stay, till hotter 
beams are prepared, to infuse a spicy richness into her odours, 
and tincture her complexion with the deepest crimson? — Who 
disposes these beautiful troops into such orderly bodies, retard-* 
ing some and accelerating others ? Who has instructed them to 
file off, with such perfect regularity, as soon as the duty of their 
respective station is over? And, when one detachment retires, 
who gives the signal for another immediately to advance ? Who, 
but that unerring Providence, which, from the highest thrones 
of angels, to the very lowest degrees of existence, orders' all 
things in " number, weight, and measure !" 

These, O my soul, are the regulations of- that most adorable, 
that most beneficent Being, who bowed tne heavens ; came 
down to dwell on earth ; and united the frailty of thy mortal 
nature, to all the glories of his Godhead. All the honour of 
this admirable establishment belongs to thy Ransom, thy 
Surety, thy Saviour. To HIM it belongs, who sustained the 
vengeance, which thou hast deserved, and wast doomed to 
suffer ; who fulfilled the obedience, which thou wast obliged, 
but unable to perform; and who humbled himself, (stupendu- 
ous, ineffable loving-kindness !) humbled himself to death, 

even to death on the cross. He formed this vast machine, 

and adjusted its nicest dependencies. The pillars that support 
it, the embellishments that adorn it, and the laws that govern it, 
are the result of his unsearchable counsels. O ! the heights of 
his majesty, and the depths of his abasement ! 

Which shall we admire most, his essential greatness, or his 
free grace ? He created the exalted seraph, that sings in glo- 
ry ; and every the minutest insect, that flutters in air, or crawls 
in dust. He marks out a path for all those globes of light, which 
travel the circuit of the skies ; and disdains not to rear the vio- 
let from its lowly bed, or to plait the daisy which dresses our 
plains. So grand are his operations ; yet so condescending his 

regards ! If Summer, like a sparkling bride, is brilliant and 

glorious in her apparel : what is this, but a feeble reflection of 
his uncreated effulgence ? If Autmn, like a magnificent host, 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 101 

opens her store, and gives us al! things richly to enjoy ; what 
h this, but a little taste of his inexhaustible liberality f It 
thunders roar, you hear the sound of his trumpet ; if lightnings 
glare, you see the launching of his glittering spears: if " the 
perpetual hills be scattered, and the everlasting mountains 

bowed," you behold a display ; no, says the prophet, you 

have rather the hiding of his poiver* So immense is his pow- 
er, so uncontroulable and inconceivable, that all these mighty 
works are but a sketchy in which more is concealed than dis- 
covered. 

Thus, I think, we should always view the visible system, 
with an evangelical telescope, (if I may be allowed the expres- 
sion) and with an evangelical microscope ; regarding Christ 
Jesus as the great projector and architect, who planned, and 
executed, the amazing scheme. Whatever is magnificent or 
valuable, tremendous or amiable, should ever be ascribed to 
the Redeemer. This is the Christian's natural pJtilosophy, 
With regard to this method of considering the things that are 

* Hub. in- 4. Nothing can be more magnificently conceiv- 
ed, than the imagery of this whole chapter ; and upon the foot 
of our interpretation, nothing was ever more delicately and no- 
bly turned, than the sentiment of this clause. Other senses of 
the passage, I acknowledge, may be assigned with equal pro- 
priety. But none, I think, can be imagined so majestic and sub- 
lime. As the original will fairly admit of it, as it carries no 
disagreement with the context ; and expresses a most impor- 
tant, as well as undoubted truth ; I hope I may be permitted to 
use it, at least by way of accommodation. — Especially as it 
suggests one of the finest mottos imaginable, wherewith to in- 
scribe all the visible productions of the Creator's hand. When, 
struck with astonishment, we consider their grandeur, beauty 
and consummate perfections ; let us, injustice to their author, 
.apply the exalted reflection of the sacred ode ; " In all these 
is the biding, rather than an adequate display of bis matchless 
power. Though they challenge our praise, and surpass our 
comprehensions ; yet are they by no means the utmost exer- 
tions, but rather some slighter essays of omnipotent skill."— - 
Milton relating the overthrow of the fallen angels, introduces a 
grand circumstance not much unlike the preceding. Messiah 
unaided and alone, had routed an innumerable host of apostate 
spirits. This was great and marvellous. But to create a 
j aster idea of the illustrious Conqueror, our poet beautifully adds, 
Yet half bis strength he put not forth. 

If we forget to make the same remarks, when we contem- 
plate God in his works ; we must necessarily form verv scanty 
conceptions of that Supreme Being, before whom all nations 
are as " a drop of a bucket, and are counted as the small dust. 
©£ the balance.*' 

i % 



102 REFLECTIONS 

seen, we have an inspired apostle lor our preceptor <ind n 
Oeiit ^peaking of Christ, he says, "Thou, Lord, in the 
beginning, hast laid the foundation of . the earth; and the hea- 
vens are the work of thy hands,"— Did we carefully attend to 
this leading principle, in all our exarninationsof nature, it 
would, doubtless, he a most powerful means of enkindling our 
love, and strengthening our faith.* When I look round upon 
nnlhons of substances and carry with me this transporting re- 
flection, " The Maker of them all expired on a cross for me ;" 
how can I remain any longer indifferent? Must notthe $$dkst 
heart begin to glow with'gratitude ? — When I survey an im- 
mensity of tlie finest productions imaginable ; and remember 
that the author of them ail is my righteousness ■"' and my re- 
demption ;" how can I chuse but repose the most cheerful con- 
fidence in such a Mediator. 

Let me add one more remark, upon the admirable adjust- 

* The apostles, I observe, delight to use this method of dis- 
playing the honours of the Redeemer, and establishing the faith 
of his people. — The beloved disciple, teaching that most" pre- 
cious doctrine " of a Lamb slain to take away the sins of the 
world ;*' in order to evince the sufficiency of Christ's sacri- 
fice for this blessed purpose, affirms, that all thi?igs were made 
by him f and without him was not any thing, no, not so much as 
one single being, made, John i. 3. — St. Paul, preaching the same 
g:ad tidings to the Collossians, and expressly maintaining, that 
we have redemption through his blood, seems to foresee an ob- 
jection of this kind. u To expiate transgressions against an 
infinite Majesty is a most prodigious act. It must cost vastly 
more- than any common surety can pay, to redeem a sinful 
world. What reason have we to believe tha* Jesus is equal to 
this mighty undertaking ?" All possible reason, replies the 
apostle, from the dignity of his person, for he is the image of 
tze invisible God ; and from the greatness of his works, for by 
him all things were made. Consider the operations of his hands, 
and you cannot doubt the atoning efficacy of his death, Col. i. 
15, 16. — The author of the epistle to the Hebrews, falls exactly 
into the same train of arguing. Declaring that Christ Jesus 
has purged our sins by the sacrifice of himself, he proves his 
ample ability £sr this tremendous office from his essential excel- 
lence, because he is the brightness of his Father s glory ; and 
from his admirable works, because he made the worlds, and up- 
koldeth all things by the word of his power, Heb. i. 2, 3. — Which 
truth, as it is so important in itself, of such signal comfort to 
Christians, and so particularly insisted on by the inspired wri- 
ters, I hope I shall need no apology for an attempt to illustrate 
and enforce it, in a kind of evangelical Descant on Creation^ 
annexed to these Reflections,. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN, 103 

t of every particular relating to these fine colonies planted 
o* the parterre.— With such accuracy and correctness is their 
structure finished, that any, the least conceivable alteration, 
would very much impair their perfection. Should you see, for 
instance, the 'nice disposition of the tulip's attire fly abroad 
disorderly and irregular, like the flaunting woodbine ; should 
the jessamine rear her diminutive head on those grand columns 
w-kich support toe IwUihock ; should the erect and ma#ly as- 
pect of thcpiony hang down with a pensive air, like the flexi- 
ble beijs of the hyacinth; should that noble plainness which 
distinguishes the lily, be exchanged for the glittering fringes 
which edge the pink, or the gaudy stains which bedrop the 
iris ; should these tapering pillars which arise in the middle 
of its vase, and, tipt with golden pendants, give such a lustre to 
the surrounding pannels of alabaster — should those sink and 
disappear, like the chives which cover the heart of the ane- 
mone ;— In many of these cases, would not the transposition be 
fantastical and aukward ? — in all, to the apparent prejudice 
of every individual r 

Again, with regard to the time of their appearing, this cir- 
cumstance is settled by a remarkable foresight and precaution. 
What would become of the sailor, if, in very stormy weather, 
he should raise a lofty mast, and croud it with all his canvass? 
Such wou!d be the ill effect, if the most stately species of flowers, 
should presume to come abroad, in the blustering months. Ah ! 
how would they rue the imprudent boldness ! Therefore these 
omy that shoot the shortest stems, and display the smallest 
spread of leaves, or (if you please) carry the least sail, are 
launched amidst the blowing seasons.-— How judiciously would 
the perfumer act, if he should unseal his finest essences, and 
expose them to the Northern winds, or wintry rains ! Our 
blooming artists of the aromatic profession, at least the most de- 
licate among them, seem perfectly aware of the consequences 
of such a procedure. Accordingly they postpone the opening 
of their odoriferous treasures, till a serener air* and more un- 

* Cashier, m a very poetical manner, addresses himself to 
the dormant rose?, and most prettily invites her to ventu/e abroad, 
by the mention of these two circumstances. 

. Side film sacros hnitata wiUus, 
Shiid iatcsdiidum, roso? delicatum 
Ejfer e terris caput, O tepeniis 

Filia cce-ii, 
jfam tibi nubes fug hint aquosse 
^uasfugant albis Zephyri quadrigis ; 
^am tibi, mnicet BoreamjG&tftf/j 

Aura Favoai. 



104 , REFLECTIONS 

clouded skies, grant a protection to their amiable traffic ; till 
they are under no more apprehensions of having their spicy 
cells rifled by rude blasts, or drowned in incessant showers. 

What a striking argument is here for resignation ; unfeigned, 
resignation, to all the disposals of Providence ! loo often are 
our dissatisfied thoughts apt to find fault with divine dispensa- 
tions. We tacitly arraign our Maker's conduct, or question- 
his kindness with regard to ourselves. W r e fancy our lot not 
so commodiously situated, or our condition nut so happily 
circumstanced as if we had been placed in some other station 
of life. Bullet us behold this exquisitely nice regulation of the 
minutest plants, and be ashamed for our repining folly. Could 
any fibre in their composition be altered, or one line in their 
features be transposed, without clouding some of their beaur 
ties? could any fold in their vestments be varied, or any link 
in their orderly succession be broken, without injuring some 
delicate property ? And does not that All seeing eye, which 
preserves so exact a harmony among these pretty toys, main- 
tain as watchful a care over his rationale reaturts f Does he 
chuse the properest season for the cowslip to rise, and drink 
the dews ? And can he neglect the concerns, or misjudge the 
conveniences of his sous and daughters ? He, who has so com- 
pletely disposed whatever attains to the vegetable oeconomy, 
that the least diminution or addition would certainly hurt the 
mushed scheme, does, without all perad venture, preside with 
equal attention over the interests of his own people. 

Be still, then, thou uneasy mortal ;.* know that God is un- 
erringly wise ; and be assured, that amidst the greatest muiti 

Child of the summer, charming rose, 

No longer in confinement lie ; 
Arise to light ; thy form disclose ; 

Rival the spangles of the sky. 
The rains are gone ; the storms are o'er ; 

Winter retires to make thee way; 
Come then, thou sweetly blushing flow'r; 

Come, lovely stranger, come away.. 
The sun is dress'd in beaming smiles, . 

To give thy beauties to the day ! 
Young zephyrs wait, with gentlest gales, 

To fan thy bosom, as they play. 

* JPcrmitias ipfis expendere numinibas, quid 
Congenial nobis, rebus que sit utile nostris. 
Nam pro j ucundis aptissima quceque dabunt dii : 
Carrior est Mis homo, quam sibi. — Juy* 

Since all the downward tracts of time 
Go,p's watchful eye surveys ;. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 105 

jjlieity of beings, he does not overlook thee. Thy Saviour 
Has given me authority to assert, that thou art of far superior 
value, in the estimate of Omnipotence than ail the herbage of 
the field.— If his sacred will ordains sickness for thy portion, 
never dare to imagine that uninterrupted health would be more 
advantageous. If he pleases to withhold, or take away chil- 
dren, never presume to conclude that thy happiness is blasted/ 
because thy hopes of an encreasing family are disappointed. 
lie that marshals all the starry host, and so accurately arranges 
every the meanest species of herbs: HE orders all the peculi- 
arities, a}\ the changes of thy state, with a vigi!ance that no- 
thing can elude, with a goodness that endureth for ever,— Bow 
thy head, therefore, in humble acquiescence. Rest satisfied, that 
whatever is, by the appointment of heaven,* is right, is best. 

O I who so wise to choose our lot, x 

And regulate our ways ? 

Since none can doubt his equal love, 

Unmeasurably kind; 
To his unerring , gracious will ; 

Be every wish resign'd. 

Good when he gives, supremely good ; 

Nor less, when he denies : 
Ev'n crosses, from his sovereign hand/ 
| Are blessings wdisgaise. -— - 

* Whatever is, is right. — If Mr. Pope understands the maxim 
according to the limitation suggested above, he speaks a most 
undeniable and glorious' truth. But if rhat great poet includes 
whatever comes to pass, through the wild and extravagant pas- 
sions of men ; surely no thinking person, at least no Christian 
can accede to his opinion.— What God orders, is wise, beyond 
all possibility of correction ; and good, above all that we can ask 
or think. His deciees are the result of infinite discernment ; 
and his dispensations, the issues of unbounded benevolence. — ■ 
But man, fallen man, is hurried away by his lusts, into a thcu- 
sand irregularities ; which are deplorably evil in themselves, and 

attended with consequences manifestly pernicious to society 

Let the sentiment, therefore, be restrained to the disposals of 
heaven, and I most readily subscribe it. But, if it be extended 
to the conduct of men, and the effects of their folly ; I think 
myself obliged to enter my protest against it. For, whatever 
kindles the divine indignation — is cause of final ruin to the au- 
thor — is strictly forbidden by God's holy word — is contrary to 
the whole design of his revealed will, and the very reverse of 
his essential attributes . — This cannot possibly be right : this is 
most undoubtedly wrong. Omnipotence, indeed, can over-rule 
it, and educe good from it : but the very notion of over-ruling 
supposes it to be absolutely vorohg in itself. 



106 REFLECTIONS 

Among all the productions, of the third creating day, ffifV 
of flowers seems to be peculiarly designed for man. Man 
has the monopoly of this favour; it is conferred on him by a 
sort of exclusive charter. See the imperial crozon splendid 
and beautifully grand ! See the tuberose delicate and languish- 
mgly fair ! See ail the pomp and glory of the parterre, where 
paint and perfumedo wonders. Yet the inferior animals are' 
neither smit with their beauties, nor regaled with their odours. 
The horse never stands still to gaze upon their charms ; nor 
does the ox turn aside to browse upon their sweets. Senses 
they have to discern these curious objects in the grass, but 
no taste to distinguish, or relish their fine accomplishments.— 
Just so, carnal and unenlightened men may understand the 
literal meaning of scripture, may comprehend the evidences 
of its divine inspiration ; yet have no relish for the heavenly 
truths it teaches, no ardent longing for the spiritual blessings 
it offers ; and see " no form or comeliness" in the Saviour it 
describes, so as to render him the supreme desire of their souls. 

The chief end of these beautiful appearances, philosophers 
say, is to infold and cherish the embry seed, or to swathe the 
tender body during its infant state. — —But, whatever is the 
chief end of nature, 'tis certain she never departs from the de- 
sign of administering delight to mankind.* This is insepara- 
bly connected with her other views. — Were it only to secure 
a re- productive principle, what need of such elegant compli- 
cations f Why so much art employed, and so many decora- 
tions added? Why should vestments be prepared, richer than 
brocades, more delicate than lawns, and of a finer glow than 

the most admired velvets?- If the great mother had no other 

aim than barely to accommodate her offspring, warm flannel, 
or homely fustian, would have served her turn ; served it full 
as well as the most sumptuous tissues, or all the furniture of the 
mercer's shop. 

Evident then it is, that flowers were endued with such in- 
chanting graces for the pleasure of man. In pursuance of this 
original intention, they have always paid their court to the 
human race ; they still seem particularly solicitous of recom- 
mending themselves to our regard. The finest of each species 
crowd about our habitations, and are rarely to be seen at a dis- 

* '* We find that the most important parts in the vegetable 
world, are those which are the most beautiful. These are the 
Seeds by which the several races of plants are propagated and 
continued, and in which are always lodged flowers or blossom s. 
Nature seems to hide her principal design, and to be industri- 
ous in making the earth gay and delightful, while she is carry- 
ing on the great werk, and intent upon her own preservation.** 
Spect. vel. V. No. 387. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 107 

tance from our abodes. They thrive under our cultivating 
hand and observing eye ; but degenerate and pine away, if 
unregarded by their lord.—- To- win his attention, and deck 
his retreats, they hide their deformities under ground ; and 
display nothing but the most graceful forms, and engaging 
colours, to his sight. — To merit a farther degree of his esteem, 
the generality of them dispense a delightful perfume. What 
is still more obliging, they reserve their richest exhalations,* 
to embalm his morning and evening walks, f Because he usu- 
ally chuses those cool hours to recreate himself among their 
blooming ranks ; therefore, at those hours they are most lavish 
o[ their fragrance, and breathe out their choicest spirits, 

O man;, greatly beloved by thy Creator! the darling -of 
Providence ! thou art distinguished by his goodness : distin- 
guish thyself also by thy gratitude. Be it thy one undivided 
aim to glorify him, who lias been at so much expense to gra- 
tify thee ! — While all these inferior creatures in silent eloquence 
declare the glory of God, do thou lend them thy tongue. 
Be thou the high priest of the mute creation. Let their praise 
become vocal in thy songs. — Adore the supreme Benefactor, 
for the blessings he showers down upon every order of .'beings. 
Adore him for numberless mercies, which are appropriated to 
thyself. But, above all, adore him for that noble gift of a 
rational and immortal soul. — This constitutes us masters of 
t)m globe, and gives us a real enjoyment of its riches. This 
discovers ten thousand beauties, which otherwise had been 
lost; and renders them both a source of delights, and a nur- 
sery of devotion. By virtue of this exalted principle, we 

are qualified to admire our Maker's works, and capable of 
bearing his illustrious image; bearing his illustrious image, " 
not only when these ornaments of the ground have resigned 
their honours, but when the great origin of day is extinguish- 
ed in the skies, and ail the flaming orbs on high are put out 
into obscure darkness.— Then to survive, to survive the ruins 
of one world, and to enjoy God — to resemble God— to be 
u filled with all the fulness of God," in another ; — -what a hap- 
piness, what an inestimable happiness, is this ! Yet this is thy 

* The flowers, 

That opening now their choicest bosom 'd smells, 
Reserv'd from night, and kept for thee in store. 

Milt. 
The twining jesminc, and the blushing rose, 
With lavish grace their morning scents disclose ; 
The smelling tub'rose and jonquil declare 
The stronger impulse of an ev'ning air. 

Prion's SoU 



108 REFLECTIONS 

privilege (barter it not for trifles of an hour !) this is thy glot? 
ous prerogative, O man ! 

O ! the goodness, the exuberant goodness of our God ! I 
cannot forbear celebrating it once more, before 1 pass to ano- 
ther consideration. — How much should we think ourselves ob- 
liged to a generous friend, who should build a stately edifice,* 

* I cannot persuade myself, that the comparison is stretched 
beyond proper bounds, when carried to this pitch. It is my 
stedfast opinion that the world, at least this lower world, with 
its various appurtenances, was intended purely for man: that it 
is appropriated to him ; and that he (in subordination to God's 
glory) is the end of its creation. — Other animals, it is true, par- 
take of the Creator's benefits : But then they partake under the 
notion of man's domestics, or on the foot of retainers to him ; 
as creatures which bear some relation to his service, and some 
way or other contribute to his good. So that still he is the cen- 
tre of the whole : or, as our incomparable Milton, equally mas- 
ter of poetry and divinity, expresses himself, All things live for 
man. Par. Lost, b. XI. 1 in. 161. 

Mr. Pope, in his Ethic Epistles, is pleased to explode this 
tenet, as the height of pride, and a gross absurdity. — For my 
part, I see no reason for such a charge. With all submission 
to so superior a genius, it seems very remote from pride, to be 
duly sensible of favours vouchsafed ; to contemplate them in all 
the extent of their munificence, and acknowledge them accord- 
ingly. I should rather imagine, that to contract their size, 
when they are immensely large : to stint their number, when 
they are altogether innumerable ; that such a procedure favours 
more of insensibility thara cur hypothesis of presumption ; and 
has more in it of ingratitude, than of arrogance. 

And how can it be deemed an absurdity, to maintain that 
Gon gave us a world for our possession, when it is our duty to 
believe, that he gave us his only Son for our propitiation ? Sure, 
it can be neither difficult nor extravagant to suppose, that lie 
designed the habitable gl>be, with its whole furniture, for our 
present use ; since he withheld not his holy child Jesus, but 
freely delivered him up, for our final salvation. 

Upon the whole, I cannot but conclude, that the attempt of our 
famous poet is neither kind, with regard to his fellow-creatures, 
nor grateful, with regard to his Creator ; neither is his scheme, 
in fact, true. The attempt not kind, with regard to man, be- 
cause it robs him of one of the most delightful and ravishingcon- 
tcmplations imaginable. To consider the great Author of ex-. 
istence as having me in his eye, when he formed universal na- 
ture; as contriving all things with an immediate view to the 
exigencies of my particular state ; and making them all in such 
a manner as might be most conducive to my particular advan- 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 109 

fwrely for our abode ! But how great!} 7 would the obligation 
be increased, if the hand that built should also finish it '! and 
not only finish it with all that is commodious and comfortable, 
hut ornament it also with whatever is splendid and delightful ! 
This has our most indulgent Creator done, in a manner infi- 
nitely surpassing all we could wish or imagine. 
' The earth is assigned us for a dwelling. — The skies are 
stretched over us like a magnificent canopy, dyed in the purest 
-azure; and beautified now with pictures of floating silver, now 
with colourings of reflecting crimson —This grass is spread 
tinder us, as a spacious carpet ; wove with silken thread of 
green, and damasked with ilowers of every hue — The sun, 
like a golden lamp, is hung out in the etherial vault ; and 
pours his effulgence, all the day, to lighten our paths.— *W hen 

tage : this must occasion the strongest satisfactions, whenever 
1 cast a glance on the objects that surround me — -Not grateful, 
with regard to God ; because it has the most direct tendency 
to diminish our sense of his kindness and by that means to 
throw a damp upon our gratitude. It teaches us to look 
upon ourselves as almost lost among a croud of other beings, 
or regarded only with an occasional and incidental benefi- 
cence ; which must certainly weaken the disposition, and in- 
deed slacken the ties to the most adoring thankfulness. To 

which, I apprehend, we may justly add, Neither is the scheme, 
in fact, true. For, not to mention what might be urged from 
the sure word of revelation, this one argument appears suffi- 
ciently conclusive. The world began with man; the world 
must cease with man ; consequently the grand use, the principal 
end of the world, is, to subserve the interest of man. It is on 
all sides agreed, that the edifice was erected, when man was to 
be furnished with an habitation ; and that it will be demolished 
when man has no farther need of its accommodations. When 
he enters into the house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens, " the earth, and all the works that are therein, shall" 
fee burnt up." From which it seems a very obvious and fair 
deduction that man is the final cause o£ this inferior creation. 

So that I think my readers and myself privileged (not to say 
en the principles of gratitude obliged) to use these lovely lines of 
cur author, with a propriety and truth equal to their elegance 
afed beauty : 

For me kind nature w ? akes her genial pow'r, 
Suckles each herb, and spreads forth ev'ry flower ! 
Annual for me the grape, the rose renew 
The juice nectareous, and. the balmy dew ; 
For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings ; 
J or me, health gushes from a thousand springs. 

Eth. Ep. h ver. 1S9. 
K 



110 REFLECTIONS 

night approaches, the moon takes up the friendly office; and 
the stars are kindled in twinkling myriads, to cheer the dark- 
ness with their milder lustre, not disturb our repose by too 
intense a glare. — -—The clouds, besides the rich paintings they 
hang around the heavens, act the part of a shifting screen ; 
and defend us, by their seasonable Interposition, from the 
scorching beams of Summer. May we not also regard them, 
as the great watering-pots of the globe ; which, wafted on the 
wings of the wind, dispense their moisture evenly through the 
universal garden ;* and fructify with their showers, whatever 
our hand plants.— -The fields are our exhaustless granary.-— 
The ocean is our vast reservoir. — The animals spend their 
strength, to dispatch our business ; resign their clothing, to 
replenish our wardrobe ; and surrender their very lives, to 
provide for our tables. — In short, every clement is a storehouse 
of conveniencies ; every season brings us the choicest produc- 
tions ; all nature is our carterer.— And, which is a most en- 
dearing recommendation of these favours, they are all as lovely 
as they are useful. You observe nothing mean or inelegant. 
All is clad in beauty s fairest robe,f and regulated by propor- 
tion's nicest rule. The whole scene exhibits a fund of plea- 

* This circumstance, amidst abundance of other delicate and 
edifying remarks upon the wonders of Nature, is finely touched 
in the philosophical trajeetions recorded in the book of Job, 
chap, xxxviii. ver. 15. Who hath divided a water -course for the 
overflowing of waters ? 

The Hebrew is so pregnant and rich with sense, that no 
translation can do it justice. The following paraphrase, per- 
haps, may represent the principal ideas comprehended in the 
expressive original — Who has branched eut, and w r ith an admi- 
rable judgment, disposed a variety of aqueducts, for that immense 
collection of waters which float in the sky ? Who distributes 
those pendulous floods through all the borders of the earth ? 
distributes them, not in dreadful cataracts, or promiscuous gluts 
of rain, but in kindly drops, and refreshing showers ; with as 
much regularity and (economy, as if they were conveyed by pipes 
from a conduit ? — To whom shall we ascribe that niceness of 
contrivance, which now emits, now restrains them ; sometimes 
drives their humid train to one place, sometimes to another ; 
dispenses them to this soil in larger, to that in smaller commu- 
nications ; and, in a word, so manages the mighty fluid, that 
every spot is supplied, in exact proportion to its wants ; none 
destroyed by an undistinguished deluge ? 

•f Perhaps it was from such an observation, that the Greeks, 
those critical and refined judges of things, expressed the mitb* 
dane system by a word, which signifies beauty. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 1 1 i 

sures to the imagination, at the same time that it more than 
supplies all our wants.* 

Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man ! whosoever thou 
art, that rebeliest against thy Maker. He surrounds thee with 
unnumbered benefits, and follows thee with an effusion of the 
richest, noblest gifts. He courts thy affections, he solicits thy 
gratitude, by liberalities winch are never intermitted, by a 
bounty which knows no limits. Most blessed Lord, let this 
thy goodness, thy unwearied goodness, lead us to repentance. 
IVhi us to thyself, thou fountain of felicity, by these sweet 
inducements. Draw us to our d^ity, thou God of our salva- 
tion, by these " cords of love*" 

What a lively picture is here of the beneficial QfkcU of in- 
*lmtry! By industry and .cultivation, this neat spot is an 
image of Eden. Here is all that can entertain the eye, or re- 
gale the smell. f Whereas without cultivation, this sweet gar- 
den had been a desolate wilderness. Vile thistles had made 
•it loathsome, anil tangling briers inaccessible. Without culti- 
vation, it might have been a nest of serpents, and the horrid 
.haunt of venomous creatures, But the spade and pruning- 
kniie, hi the hand of industry, have improved it into a sort of 
terrestrial paradise. 

How naturally does this lead our contemplation to the ad- 
vantages which flow from a virtuous education, and the mise- 
ries which ensue from the neglect of it !+—- The mind, without 
early instruction, will, in all probability, become like the 
," vineyard of the sluggard." If left to the propensities of its 
own depraved will, what can we expect, but the most luxuri- 
ant growth of unruly appetites, which in time will break forth 
into all manner of scandalous irregularities? Wkaib — but that 
anger, like a prickly- thorn, arm the temper with an uutracta- 
bie moroseness ? peevishness, like a stinging nettle, render the 
conversation irksome and forbidding ; avarice, like some 
choaking weed, teach the fingers to gripe, and the hands to 
■'''•oppress ; revenge like some poisonous plant, replete with bane- 
•ftil juices, rankle in the breast, and meditate mischief to its 
neighbour: While unbridled lusts, like swarms of noisome 

* " Those several living creatures which are made for our 
service or sustenance, at the same time either fill the woods 
with their music, furnish us with game, or raise pleasing ideas 
in us by the delightfulness of their appearance. Fountains, 
lakes, and rivers, are as refreshing to the imagination, as to 
the soil through which they pass." 

Spect. vol. V. No. 387. 
f Omnis copia narium. II or, 

j Neglectis urendafMx inn&sei turagris* Ho&... 



112 REFLECTIONS 

insects, taint each rising thought, and render u -every i m'agt- . 

nation of i he heart only evil continually.'' -Such are the :.-,• 

usual products of savage nature; such the furniture of the [ 
uncultivated soul ! 

Whereas, let the mind he put under the " nurture and ad- 
monition of the Lord ;" let holy discipline clear the soil ; let 
sacred instructions sow it with the best seed ; let skilhajid vi- 
gilance dress the rising shoots, direct the young ideas how jo 
spread, the wayward passions how" to move. — Then, what a 
different state of the inner man will quickly take place! Cha- 
rity will breathe her sweets, and hope expand her blossoms ; 
the personal virtues display their graces, and the social ones : 
their fruits;* the sentiment becomes generous, the carnage 
endearing, the life honourable and useful. f 

O i that governors of families, and masters of schools f) would 
watch with a conscientious solicitude, over the morals of their 
tender charge! What pity it is, that the advancing generation 
should lose these invaluable endowments, through any supioe- 
ness in their instructors ! — See! with what assiduity the curi-,. 
cits flourist attends his little nursery ! He visits them early and 
late ; furnishes them with the properest mould ; supplies them 
with seasonable moisture ; guards them from the ravages* of 
insects; screens them from the injuries of the weather; marks , 
their springing buds: observes them attentively, through their 
whole progress ; and never intermits his anxiety, till he be- • 
holds them blown into full perfection.-— — And shall a range of 
painted leaves which flourish to-day, and to-morrow, fall to the 
ground — shall these be tended with more zealous application 
than the exalted faculties of an immortal soul ! 

Yet trust not in cultivation alone. It is the blessing of the 
Almighty Husbandman which imparts success to such labours 
of love. If God " seal up the bottles of heaven/' and com- 

* This transformation of the heart, and renewal of the life,. 
are represented in scripture by similitudes very nearly allied to 
the images used above. God, by his sanctifying spirit •willmake 
the soul as a watered garden. Jnder the operation of this divine 
principal, the desart shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose. Where- 
cver it exerts the refining and ennobling energy, instead of the 
thorn, shall come up the fig-tree ; and instead of the briar, the myr~ 
tie tree, Jer. xxxi. 12. Isa. xxxv. 1. and lv. 13. 

•f A teneris assuescere tantl est ! Virg. 

"The principles we imbibe, and the habits we contract, in our 
early years, are not matters of small moment, but of V* utnui$t 
consequence imaginable. They not only give a transient or S%f er- 
ficial tincture to our first appearance in life, but most cen.mon- 
ly stamp the form of our whole future conduct, and even of ou? 
cte(7ust state. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 1 U 

iltand the clouds to withhold their fatness, the best manured 
plot becomes a barren desart. And if he restrain the dew of 
his heavenly- benediction, ail human endeavours miscarry ; the 
rational plantation languishes ; our most pregnant hopes from 
youths of the toost promising genius, prove abortive. Their 
rdot will be as rottenness, and their blossoms iviil go up as 
dust. *■*— — -Therefore let parents plant : let tutors water ; but 
Jet both' look up to the Father of spirits, for the desired in- 
crease. 

. Oh 'every side, I espy several budding flowers. As yet they 
are like bales of cloth from the packers warehouse. Each is 
wrapt within a strong inclosure, and its contents are tied toge- 
ther by the firmest bandages ; so that all their feeaufeuhe- con- 
cealed, and all their sweets are locked up. -Just such is 

the niggardly wretch, whose aims are all turned inward, and 
meanly terminated upon himself; who makes his own private 
interests^ or personal pleasures, the sole centre of his designs,, 
and the scanty circumference of his actions. 

Ere long the searching beams will open these silken folds, 
and draw them into a graceful expansion. Then what a lovely? 
blush will glow in their cheek ; what a balmy odour exhale 
from their bosoms !— So> when divine .graces shine upon the 
mind, even the churl becomes bountiful ; the heart of stone u 
talcen 'away ; and a heart of flesh, a heart susceptible to the 
softest, most compassionate emotions, is introduced m its stead. 
O ! how sweetly do the social affections dilate themselves, un- 
der so benign an influence! juit like these disclosing gems, 
under the powerful eye of day. The tender regards are no 
longer confined to a single object, but extend themselves into 
a generous concern for mankind, and shed liberal refreshment 
err all within their reach.f 

* Isa. v. 24. 

f The prophet, describing the charitable temper, very beau- 
tifully says, If thou draw out thy soul to the hungary /-r-This, I, 
think, may not improperly be illustrated by the circumstances 
observed above. The opening of those buds into a large and 
extensive spread, is a pretty portrait of the amplitude of a ^e- 
7i erous heart ; which cannot shut up its compassion, or remain 
unconcerned at any human calamity. The freenesjs stnd copfc 
ousness with which the expanded flowers are continually pour- 
ing out their choicest essences, may represent the various acts 
of -an unwearied liberality ; together with those endearing werd&, 
and that cordial affection, which embalm, as it were, a gift, dou- 
ble its value; and constitute what the sacred penman styles Dram* 
ing out the soul. Deprompseris animam tuam* Isa Win. 10. 

K2 



114 REFLECTIONS 

Arise then, thou Sun of righteousness; arise, withfreaHfcg 
under thy wings ; and transfuse thy gentle, but penetrating 
ray, through all our intellectual powers Enlarge every nar- 
rate disposition, and fill us with a diffusive benevolence. is;aie 
room in our breasts for the whole human race ; and teach us to 
love all our fellow-creatures, for their amiable Creators sake. 
May we be oleased with their excellencies, and rejoice in teir 
happiness ; out feel their miseries as our own, and, with a bro- 
thers sympathy, hasten to relieve thenl ! 

Disposed at proper distances, I observe a range of stro'fc^ 
and stately stalks. They stand like towers along the walls of a 
fortified city ; or rise, like lofty spires, amidst the group of 
houses. They part at the top, into several pensile spiky pods 
from each of which we will soon see a fine figure displaying it- 
self; rounded into a form, which constitutes a perfect circle 
spread wide open, into t fie most frank and communieativ 
air; and tinged with colour, which is peculiarly captivating t 
the miser's eye. 

But the property I chiefly admire, is its passionate fondne, 
for the sun. When the evening shades take place, the pooi 
flower droops, and folds up its leaves. It mourns ail the nigh 
and pines amidst the gloom, like some forlorn lover, banishc 
from the object of his affections. No sooner does Providenc 
open '/"the eye-lids of the morning," but it meets and wei 
comes the returning light ;*' courts and caresses it, all the day* 
nor ever loses sight of the refulgent charmer, so long as he con- 
tinues above the horizon — 3n the morning, you may perceive 
it representing a golden bosom to the East ; at noon, it points 
upward to the middle sky; in the evening, follows the same 
attractive influence to the West. 

Surely, Nature is a book, and every page rich with sacred 
hints. To an attentive mind, the garden turns preacher and 
its blooming tenants are so many lively sermons. What an en- 
gaging pattern, and what an excellent lesson have we here! — - 
So, let the redeemed of the Lord look unto Jesus,^ and be 
conformed to their beloved. Let us all be Heliotropes, (if I 
may use the expression) to the Sun of righteousness. Let our 
passions rise or fall; take this course or that ; as his word de- 
termines, as his holy example guides. Let us be so accommo- 
dated both to his commanding and providential will, as the 
wax is turned to the imprinted seal ; or as the aspect of this ena- 
moured flower, to the splendid star, which creates our day. 

Jn every enjoyment, O thou watchful Christian, look unto 

* Ilia suum, quamvis radice tineturi 

Vertitur ad solem. Ovid» 

f Heb. xii. % 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. UJ 

Jesus > ~Feceive.it as proceeding from his love, and purchased 
by his agonies.*— — in every tribulation look unto Jesus ; 
mark his gracious hand, managing the scourge, or mingling the 
bitter cup ; ate^npering it to a proper degree of seventy : ad- 
justing the time of its continuance ; and ready to make these 
seeming disasters productive of real good. — In every infirmity 
and failing t look unto Jesus, thy merciful High Priest, plead- 
ing h is atoning blood, and making intercession for transgressor . 
In every prayer look unto Jesus, thy prevailing Advo- 
cate, recommending thy devotions, and " bearing the iniquity 
of thy holy things.^f — *Irj every temptation look unto Jesus, 
the Author of thy strength, and Captain of thy salvation ; who 
alone is able to lift up the hands which hang down, to invigo-- 
rate the enfeebled knees, and make triee more than conqueror 
overall thy enemies.— But especially, when the Ao^r of thy de- 
parture approaches ; when " thy flesh and thy heart fail f 
when all the springs of life are irreparably breaking; then look 
mito Js.sus with a believing eye.J Like expiring Stephen, be- 
hold him standing on the right hand of God, on purpose to 
succour his people, in this their last extremities. Yes, my 
Christian friend ; when thy journey through life is finished, and 
thou art arrived on the very verge of mortality : when thou art 
just launching out into the invisible world, and air- before thee 
is vast eternity ; — then, O then, be ?ure to look sted fasti y unto 
Jesus! " See by faith the Lord's Christ." View him as 
the only Way,% to the everlasting mansions ; as the only Door>\\ 
to the abodes of bliss. 

Yonder tree, which faces the South, has something too re- 
markable, to pass without observation. — Like the fruitful, 
though feeble vine, she brings forth a large family of branches ; 
but unable to support them herself, commits them to the tui- 
tion of a sunny wall. As yet the tender twigs have scarce 
gemmed their future blossoms. However, I may anticipate 
the well-known productions, and picture to myself thep^^V^- 
Jloiver ; which will, in due time, with a long and copious 
succession, adorn the boughs. 

I have read, in a Latin author, of flowers inscribed with 

* He sunk beneath our heavy woes, 
To raise us to his throne : 
There* s not a gift his hand bestows. 

But cost his heart a groan. Watt$» 

f Exod. xxviii. 38. 
\ Look unto ME, and be saved, all the ends of the earth, 
Jsa> xiv. 22. 

§ John xiv. ■& || John x. 9* 



116 REFLECTIONS 

the names of kings ;* but here is one emblazoned with thev 
marks of tlie bleeaisig Prince of life, i read, in the hatred - 
writings, of apostolic men, who bore about in their bodies, 
the dying of the Lord Jesus :f But here is a blooming re- 
ligiose, that carries apparent memorials of the' same tremen- 
dous and fatal catastrophe.— Who would have expected to find 
such a tragedy of woe exhibited in a collection of the most 
delicate delights? or to see Calvary $ horrid scene pourtrayed 
on the softest ornaments of the garden ? is nature then- actuated-: 
by the noble ambition of paying commemor afire honours to it 
her agonizing Sovereign! Is she kindly officious to remind for- 
getful mortals of that miracle of mercy, which it is their duty 
to contemplate, and their happines to believe? — Or, is a sport* 
ive imagination my interpreter ; and all the supposed resem- 
blance no more than the precarious gloss- of fancy r Be it so : 
Yet even fancy has her merit, when she sets forth in such 
pleasing imagery, the crucified Jesus. Nor shall I refuse a 
willing regard to imagination herself, when she employs her 
creative powers to revive the sense of such -unparalleled love, 
and prompt my gratitude to so divine a friend. 

That spiral tendril, arising from the bottom of the sta'k -; ■-. 
is a representation of the scourge, which lashed the Redeemer's 
unspotted fJesh; and inflicted those stripes by which our -souls : 
are healed? Or, is it twisted for the cord, which bound his 
hands in painful and ignominious confinement ; those benefi- 
cent hands, which were incessantly stretched out to nn loose- 
the heavy burdens, and to impart blessings of every choice; 
kind ? — Behold the nails, which were drenched in his sacred 
veins, and riveted his fed; to the accursed tree ; those beauti- 
ful J feet, which always went about doing good; and travelled 
far and near,, to spread the glad tidings of everlasting salva- 
tion.-^See the hammer, ponderous and massy, which drove 
the rugged irons thro' the shivering nerves ; and forced a pas- 
sage for those dreadful wedges, between the dislocated bones. - 
—View the thorns which encircled our Royal Master's brow, 
and shot their keen afflictive points into his blessed bead. O 
the smart ! the racking smart ! when, instead of the triumphal 
laurel, or the odoriferous garland, that pungent and ragged 
wreath was planted on the meek Messiah's forehead! when 
violent and barbarous blows of the strong Eastern cane,§ struck 

* Die quibus in ten is inscripti nominaregum 

Nascantur sores ? V i & G . 

t 2 Cor. iv. 10. 
\ How beautiful are the feet of him that bririgeth good tidings, 
that publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidings of good, that pub* 
lishetb salvation / Isa. lii 7. 

§ 7 hey took the reed (says the sacred historian) and smote him 



ON A fLOWER'GARDEN. it? 

the prickly crown, and fixed every thorn deep in his throbbing 
temples •!*— There stand the disciples, ranged in the green 
impalement, and forming a circle round the instruments of 
their great commander's death. They appear like so many 
faithful adherents, who breathe a gallant resolution, either of 
defending their Lord to the last extremity, or of dropping 
honourably by his side. But did they give such proofs of zeal 
and fidelity in their conduct, as their steady posture, and de- 
termined aspect seem to promise ? Alas ! what is all human 
firmness, \vhen destitute of succours from above, but an ex- 
piring vapour ? What is every saint if unsupported by power- 
ful grace, but an abandoned traitor I — Observe the glory, de- 
lineated in double rays, grand with imperial purple, and rich 
with aether ial blue. But ah ! how incapable are threads, though 
spun by Summer's finest hand, though dyed in snows, or dip- 
ped in heaven, to display the immaculate excellency of his 
human, or the ineffable majesty of his divine nature ! Com- 
pared with these sublime perfection?, the most vivid assem* 
biage of colours fades into an unmeaning' flatness ; the most 
charming effects of light and shade are hot only mere daub- 
ings, but an absolute hlank. 

Among all the beauties, which shine in sunny robes, and 
sip the silver dews, this, I think, has the noblest import, if 
not the finest presence. Were they all to pass in review, and 
expect the award of superiority from my decision, I should 
not hesitate a moment. Be the prize assigned to this amiable 
candidate, which has so eminently distinguished, and so high* 
3y dignified herself, by bearing such a remarkable resemblance 

on the head ; " and so, as it were, nailed down the thorns into 
his forehead and temples, and occasioned thereby exquisite 
pain, as well as a great effusion of blood." Family Expositor. 
vol. II. sect. 188 ; — 6t It is most probable, adds the same judicious 
critic, this was a walking staff, which they put into his hand as 
a sceptre ; for a blow with a slight reed would scarce have been 
felt, or have deserved a mention in a detail of such dreadful 
sufferings." 

.* The smart attending this unparalleled piece of contempt 
and barbarity, must be inexpressibly severe; not only on account 
of the many painful punctures made in the flesh, but principal- 
ly, because the periosteum, and exquisitely sensible tugement of 
the bones lying in those parts, very near the externa; skin, mu^t 
receive a multitude of terrible wounds : The anguish of which 
could not fail of being inflamed by an excess of rage, by the 
continuance of so many thorny lancets in that extremely tendcx 
membrane ; which, in such a case, 

• 'trembling alive, all o'er, 

Must smart and agonize at ev'rypQre, 



118 REFLECTIONS 

to " the righteous Branch ; the Plant of Renown."* While 
others appoint it a place in the parterre, I would transplant 
the passion-flower, or rather transfer its sacred significance to 
my heart. There let it bloom, both in Slimmer and in Win- 
ter; bloom, in the most impressive characters, and with an 
undecaying lustre; That lalso may wear — wear on my very 
soul the traces of Immanuel, pierced for my sins, and bruis- 
ed for my transgressions : that I also may be crucified zuith 
Christ, f at least in penitential remorse, and affectionate 
sympathy : That I may know the fellowship of his sufferings^ 
and feel all my evil aifections wounded by his agonies, morti- 
fied by his death. 

There is another subject of the verdant kingdom, which, o* 
account of its very uncommon qualities, demands my particu- 
lar notice : One, so extremely diffident in .her disposition, and 
delicate in her constitution, that she dares not venture herself 
abroad in the open air, but is nursed up in the warmth of a 
hot bed, and lives cloistered in the ceils of a green-house. But 
the most curious peculiarity is, that of ail her kindred species, 
she alone partakes of perceptive life ; at least advances nearest 
to this more exalted state of being, and may be looked upon 
as the link which connects the animal and vegetable world. 
A stranger, observing her motions, would almost be induced 
to suspect, that she is endued with some inferior degrees of 
consciousness and caution. For, if you offer to handle this 
sensitive plant, she immediately takes an alarm ; hastily con* 
tracts her fibres; and like a person under apprehensions of 
violence, withdraw from your finger, in a kind of pecipitate 
disorder. Perhaps, the beauty of her aspect might be sullied, 
or the niceness of her texture discomposed, by the human 
touch. Therefore, like a coy virgin, she recedes from all un- 
becoming familiarities ; and will admit no such improper, if not 
pernicious, freedoms. 

Whatever be the cause of this unusual effect, it suggests an 
instructive admonition to the Christian. Such should be our 
apprehensive timorous care, with regard to. sin, and all, even 
the most distant approaches of vice. So should we avoid the 
very appearance of evil, and stand aloof from every occasion 
of failing.— If sinners entice, if forbidden pleasures tempt, or 
if opportunity beckon, with the gain of injustice in her hand, 
O ! turn from the gilded snare, touch not the beauteous bane ; 
but fly, fly with haste, fly without any delay, from the be- 
witching ruin. — Does Anger draw near with her Sighted torch, 
to kindle the flame of resentment in our breasts? does Flaiitvy 
* So the blessed Jesus is described, Jer. xx. 5. Ezek. xxxiv. 20. 
f Gal ii. 20 J Phil. iii. 10. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 1 1 9 

ply out can with her enchanting whispers? would Discontent 
fay her leaden hand upon our temper, and mould into our 
minds, her sour leaves, in order to make us a burden to our- 
selves, and unamiable to others ? Instantly let us divert our 
attention from the dangerous objects ; and not so much endea- 
vour to antidote, as to shun the moral contagion. Let us re- 
volve in our meditations, that wonderful meekness of our dis- 
tressed Master, which, amidst the most abusive and provoking 
insults, maintained an Uniform tenor of unshaken serenity. 
Let us contemplate .that prodigious humiliation, which brought 
him from the infinite heights above ail worlds, to make his 
bed in the dust of death. Let us soothe our jarring, our un- 
easy passions, with the remembrance of that cheerfulness and 
resignation, which rendered him, in the deepest poverty, un- 
feignediy thankful ; and, under the heaviest tribulations, most 
submissively patient. 

Harbour not, on any consideration, ihe betrayer of your 
virtue. Always maintain a holy sensibility of soul, Be deaf, 
inflexibly deaf, to every beguiling solicitation. If it obtrude 
into the unguarded heart, give it no entertainment, no, not 
for a moment. To parley with the enemy, is to open a door 
for destruction. Our safety consists in flight; and, in this 
case, suspicion is the truest prudence ; fear, the greatest bra- 
very. Play not on the brink of the precipice. Flatter not 
round the edges of the flame. Dally not with the stings of 
death. But reject, with a becoming mixture of solicitude and 
abhorrence, the very first insinuations of iniquity ; as cauti- 
ously, as the smarting sor€ shrinks even from the softest hand ; 
as constantly, as this jealous -plant recoils at the approaching 
touch.* 

* The prophet Isaiah, in an elegant and lively description o£ 
the upright man, says, He shaketh his hands from holding of 
bribes : and, I may add, from practising any kind of iniquity. 
The image, exceedingly beautiful, and equally expressive, both 
illustrates and enforces the doctrine of this whole selection. — 
Shaketh his hands >* just as a person would do, who happens to 
have burning coals fall into his lap, or some venomous creature 
fastening upon his flesh. In such a case, none would stand a 
moment to consider or to debate with himself the expediency 
of the thing. He would instantly fling off the pernicious in- 
cumbrance : instantly endeavour to disengage himself from 
the clinging mischief. — I&a. xxxiii. 15. 

I have represented the danger of not extinguishing immedi- 
ately the very first sparks of temptation, m a variety of views. 
Because a proper behaviour, in this conjuncture, is of such vast 
importance to the purity, the safety, and the comfort of our 
minds.— -Because I had the royal moralist in my eye ; who, de- 



1 20 REFLECTIONS 

Not long ago these curious productions of the Spring where 
coarse and mishapen roots. Had we opened the earth, and 
beheld thern in their seed, how uncouth and contemptible had 
their appearance been ! But now they are the boast of na- 
ture, the delight of the sons of men, finished patterns for 
enamelling and embroidery, outshining even the happiest 
strokes of the pencil. They are taught to bloom, but with a 
very inferior lustre,* in the richest tapestries, and most magni- 
ficent silks. Art never attempts to equal their incomparable 
elegancies : but places all her merit, in copying after these de- 
licate originals. Even those who glitter in silver, or whose 
clothing is of wrought gold, are desirous to borrow additional 
ornaments, from a sprig of jessamine, or a little assemblage 
of pinks. 

What a fine idea may w r e form from hence of the resur- 
rection of the just, and the state of their re-animated bodies ! 
As the roots even of our choicest flowers, when deposited in 
the ground, are rude and ungraceful ; but when they spring 
up into blooming life, are most elegant and splendid ; so the 
flesh of a saint, when committed to the dust, alas ! what is it ? 
A heap of corruption ; a mass of putrifying clay. But, when 
it obeys the great Archangel's call, and starts into a new exist- 
ence, what an astonishing change ensues ! what a most enno- 
bling improvement takes place !— That which was sown in 
weakness, is raised in all the vivacity of poiver. That which 
was sown in deformity, is raised in the bloom of celestial 
hearty. Exalted, refined, and glorified it will shine " as the 
brightness of the firmament," when it darts the inimitable 
blue, through the fleeces — the snowy ileeces of *ome cleaving 
cloud. 

Fear not, then, thou faithful Christian; fear not, at the ap- 
pointed time, to descend into the tomb. Thy soul thou may- 
est trust with thy omnipotent Redeemer, who is Lord of the 
unseen world ; " who has the keys of hell and of death." 
Most safely may est thou trust thy better part, in those benefi- 
cient hands which were pierced with nails, and fastened to the 

terring his pupils from the path of the wicked, cries -with an 
air of deep concern, and in the language of vehement importu- 
nity, cr»es, Avoid it ; pass not by it ; turn from it : and pass away. 
How strongly is the counsel urged, by being so frequently re- 
peated ; in such a remarkable diversity of concise and abrupt, 
consequently so forcible and pressing admonitions ! Prov. iv. 15. 
* The cowslip smiles in brighter yellow drest, 

Than that which veils the nubile virgin's breast ; 

A fairer red stands blushing in the rose, 

Than that which on the bridegroom's vestments flews. 

Prior's Sol 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 12f 

ignominious tree, for thy salvation. — With regard to thy earth- 
ly tabernacle, be not dismayed. It is taken down, only to be 
rebuilt upon a diviner plan, and in a more heavenly form. 
If it retires into the shadow of death, and lies immured in the 
gloom of the grave; it is only to return from a short confine- 
ment to endless liberty. If it falls into dissolution, it is in or- 
<ler to rise more illustrious from its ruin ; and wear an infi- 
nitely brighter face of perfection and of glory.* 

Having now made my panegyric, let me next take up a la- 
mentation, for these lovely productions of the vegetable work!. 
For I foresee their approaching doom. Yet a little while and 
all these pleasing scenes vanish. Yet a little while, and all the 
sweets of the breathing, and all the beauties of the blooming 
Spring, are no more. Every one of these amiable forms must 
be shrivelled to deformity, and trodden to the earth. Sig- 
nificant resemblance this of all created beauty. All flesk 
is grass : like the green herbage liable and prone to fade. 
Nay, All the goodliness thereof, its finest accomplishments, and 
what the world universally admires, is as thejiozver oftheJicld,f 
which loses its gloss, decays and perishes more speedily than 
the grass itself.— Behold then, ye brightest among the daugh- 
ters of Eve ; behold yourselves in this glass. See the charms 
of your person eclipsed, by the lustre of these little flowers : 
and the frailty, of your state represented % by their transient 

* The wise, the just, thex-spious, and the brave, 
Live in their deaths, and flourish from the grave, 
Grain hid in earth, repays the peasant's care, 
And ev'ning suns but set to rise more fair, 
f Isa. xl. 6. 
\ The reader will excuse me, if I imitate , rather than trans- 
late the beautiful lines from Theocritus; if I vary one image, 
add another, and give a new turn to the whole. 

When snows descend and robe the fields 

In Winter's bright array ; 
Touch'd by the sun, the lustre fades, 

And weeps itself away. 

When Spring appears; when violets blow, 

And shed a rich perfume ; 
How soon the fragrance breathes its last ! 

How short-liv'd is the bloom ! 

Fresh in the morn, the Summer rose 

Hangs with'rmg ere 'tis n"on ; 
We scarce enjoy the balmy gift. 

But mourn the pleasure gone, 

L 



122 REFLECTIONS 

glories. A fever may scorch those polished veins : a consump* 
tion may emaciate the dimpling cheeks ; and a load of unex- 
pected sorrows depress those lively spirits. Or should these 
disasters in pity spare the tender frame; yet age, inexorable 
age and wrinkles, will assuredly come at last ; will wither all 
the fine features, and blast every sprightly grace. 

Then, ye fair, when those sparkling eyes are darkened, and 
sink in their orbs ; when they are rolling in agonies or swim- 
ming in death ; how will you sustain the affliction \ how will 
you repair the loss ? — Apply your thoughts to religion. At- 
tend to the one thing needful. Believe in, and immitate the 
blessed Jesus. Then shali your souls mount up to the realms 
of happiness, when the well proportioned clay is mingling 
with its mean original. The light of God's countenance will 
eradiate with matchless and consummate perfection all their 
exalted faculties. Cleansed entirely from every dreg of cor- 
ruption, like some unsullied mirror, that will reflect the com- 
plete image of their Creator's holiness. O ! that you would 

thus dress your minds, and prepare for the immortal state » 
Then, from shining among your fellow creatures on earth, you 
shali be translated to shine around the throne of God. Then, 
from being the sweeteners of our life, and the delight of our 
eyes here below, you shall pass, by an easy transition, into 
angels of light ; and become " an everlasting excellency, the 
joy of all generations." 

YES ; ye floivery nations, ye must all decay. — Yonder lily, 
that looks like the queen of the gay creation — see how grace- 
ful it erects its majestic head ! What an air of dignity and 
grandeur ennobles its aspect ! For elevated mein, as well as 
for incomparable lustre, justly may it be preferred to the mag- 
nificent monarch of the East* But, all stately and charming 

With gilding fires, and ev'ning stars 

Streaks the Autumnal skies : 
Shook from the sphere, it darts away, 

And, in an instant dies. 

Such are the charms that flush the cheek, 

And sparkle in the eye ; 
So from the lovely finished form 

The transient graces fly. 

To this the seasons as they roll, 

Their attestation bring : 
They warn the fair ; their ev'ry round 

Confirms the truth I sing. 

* Matth. vi. 29, 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 123 

as it is, it will hardly survive a few more days. That uns pot- 
ted whiteness must quickly be tarnished, and the snowy form 
be fried in the dust. 

As the lily pleases with the noble simplicity of its appear- 
ance; the tulip is admired for the gaiety and multipliers of 
its odours. Never was a cup either painted or enamelled, with 
such a profusion of dyes, its tinges are so glowing, its con-. 
trasts so strong, and the arrangement of them both so elegant 
and artful ; — it was lately, the pride of the border, and the 
reigning beauty of the delightful season ; as exquisitely line 
as the rainbow, and almost as extremely transient. It spreads, 
for a little moment, its glittering plumage; but has now laid 
ail its variegated and superior honours down. Those raclient 
stripes are blended, alas! rudely blended with common mold. 

To a graceful shape and blooming complexion, the rone 
adds the most agreeable perfume. Our nostrils make it re- 
peated visits, and are never weary of drinking in its sweets. 
A fragrance, so peculiarly rich and reviving, transpires from 
its opening tufts, that every one covets its acquaintance. How 
have I seen even the accomplished Chariska, for whom so 
many votaries languish, fondly caressing this little flower ! 
That lovely bosom, which is the seat of innocence and vir- 
tue; whose least excellency it is, to rival the delicacy of the 
purest snows ; among a thousand charms of its own, thinks 
it possible to adopt another from the damask rose bud: — Yet a 
even this universal favourite must fail. Its native balm caanot 
preserve it from putrefaction. S.on, soon must it resign ail 
those endearing qualities : and hang neglected on its stem, or 
drop despised to the ground. 

One could wish, methinks, these most amiable of the inani- 
mate race, a longer existence ; but in vain. They fade almost 
as soon as they flourish. Within less than a month, their 
glories are extinct. Let the sun take a few more journies 
through the sky: then "visit this enchanting walk, and you 
will find nothing but a wretched wilderness of naked or rag- 
ged stalks.-— But (my soul exults in the thought) the garment 
of celestial glory, which shall ere long, array the reanimated 
body, will never wax old. The illustrious robes of a Saviour's 
consummate righteousness, which ever now adorn the justifi- 
ed spirit are incorruptible and immortal. No moth can cor- 
rode their texture ; no number of ages sully their brightness. 
The light of day may be quenched and all the stars sink in ob- 
scurity, but the honours of " just men made perfect," are sub- 
ject to no diminution. Inextinguishable and unfading is the 
lustre of their crowns. 

Yes ; ge fiotvery nations ye must all decay. — Vv inter, like 



124 ELECTIONS 

some enraged and irresistible conqueror, that carries fire aiid 
sword, wherever he advances ; that demolishes towns, depop- 
; countries, spreads slaughter and desolation on every 
— so, just so, will Winter, with his savage and unrelenting 
blasts, invade this beautiful prospect. The storms are gather- 
ing, and the tempests mustering their rage, to fall upon the 
vegetable kingdoms. They will ravage through the domin- 
ions of nature; and plunder her riches, and lay waste her 
charms.—^- Then, ye trees, must ye stand stript of your verdant 
apparel ; and, ye fields, be spoiled of your waving treasures. 
Then, the earth, disrobed of all her gay attire, must sit in sa- 
bles, like a disconsolate widow, The sun too, who now rides 
triumphant round the world, and scatters gaiety from his ra- 
diant eye, will then look faintly from the windows of the South* 
and, casting a short glance on our dejected world, will leave us 
to the Uncomfortable gloom of tedious night; — Then, these 
pretty cloisters of the air will chant no more to the gentle 
gales ; the lark, the linnet, and -all the feathered songters, 
abandon their notes, and indulge their woes. The harmony of 
the wood is at an end ; and silence (unless it be interrupted by 
howling winds) a sullen silence, sits brooding upon the boughs, 
which are now made vocal by a thousand warbling throats. 

But, sweet recollection ! ravishing expectation ! the songs 
of saints in light never admit a pause for sadness. All heaven 
will resound with the melody of their gratitude, and all eternity 
echo to their triumphant acclamations. The hallelujahs of that 
world, and the harmonious joy of its inhabitants, will be as 
lasting as the divine perfections they celebrate. — Come then, 
holy love, and tune my heart; descend, celestial fire, and 
touch my tongue ; that I may stand ready to strike up, and 
bear my part in that great hosanna, that everlasting hymn. 

Yes ; yes ; ye flowery nations , ye must all decay. — And in- 
deed, could you add the strength of an oak, or the stability of 
a pyramid,* to all the delicacy of your texture ; yet short, 

* I know not any performance, in which the transitory na- 
ture of the most durable monuments of human grandeur is hint- 
ed with such a modest air of instruction, er their hideous ruin 
discribed in such a pomp of pleasing horror, as in a small but 
solemn, picturesque, and majestic poem, entitled The Ruin of 

Kome, written by the Rev- Mr. Dyer : Whom the reader 

(if he has the pleasure of perusing that beautiful piece) will ea- 
sily perceive to have taken his drafts from the ©rigmals them- 
selves : as nothing but the sight of those magnificence remains, 
could have inspired his lines with such vivacity.— As a speci- 
men of the work, and a confirmation of the remark suggested 
above, I take leave to transcribe the following passage: 



ON A FLOWER-GAFyDEN. 125 

exceeding short, even then, would your duration be, For / 
see that all things come to an end. The pijlars of nature are 
tottering. The foundations of the round world are falling 
away. " The heavens themselves wax old like a garment/V- 
But, amidst these views of general ruin, here is our refuge ; 
this is our consolation ; We know that our redeemer liveth. 
Thy years, blessed Jesus, shall not fail. From everlasting to 
everlasting thou art stiil the same ; the same most excellent 
and adorable person ; the same omnipotent and faithful friend ; 
the same ail-sufficient and inestimable portion. O ! may we but 
partake of thy merits ; be sanctified by thy grace : and received 
into thy glory !-— Then perish, if ye will, all inferior delights. 
Let all that is splendid in the skies expire ; and all that is amia- 
ble in nature be expunged. Let the whole extent of creation 
be turned again into one undistinguishable void, one universal 
blank. — Yet, if God be ours, we shall have enough. If God 
be outs, we shall have all, and abound ;* all that our circum? 
stances can want, or our wishes crave, to make us inconceiva- 
bly blessed and happy; blessed and happy, not only through 
this little interval of time, but through the unmeasurable revo- 
lutions of eternity. 

The Sun is now come forth in his strength and beats fiercely 
upon my throbbing pulse. — Let me retire to yonder inviting 
arbour. There the woodbines retain the lucid drop ; there 
the jessamines, which line the verdant alcove, are still impeari- 
ed and deliriously wet with dews. — Welcome, ye refreshing 
shades! I feel, I feel your cheering influence. My languid 
spirits revive; the slackened sinews are new strung ; and life 
bounds brisker. through all her crimson channels. 

Reclined on this mossy couch, and surrounded by this frag- 
rant coldness, let me renew my aspirations to the ever-present 
Deity. Here let me remember, and imitate, the pious Au- 
gustine, and his mother Monica ; who, being engaged in dis- 
course on the beauties of the visible creation, rose by these lad- 
ders, to the glories of the invisible state ; till they were inspir- 
ed with the most affecting sense of their supereminent excel- 
lency, and actuated with the most ardent breathings after their 
full enjoyment : Insomuch, that they were almost rapt up into 



-The pilgrim oft, 



At dead of night, mid his oraison hears 
Aghast the voice of time, disparting tow'rs, 
Tumbling all precipitate down dash'd 
Rattling around, loud thund'ring to the moon. 
His hands the good man fastens on the skies, \ • 
And bids earth roll, nor feels the idle whirl. 

Night Thoughts, .No, IV. 
L 2 



126 REFLECTIONS 

the bliss they contemplated ; and scarce knew, <( whether 
they were in the body, or out of the body." 

When tempests toss the ocean; when plaintive signals of 
distress are heard from the bellowing deep ; and melancholy 
tokens of shipwreck come floating on the foaming surge ; then 
how delightful to stand safe' on shore, and hug one's self in 
conscious security I* — When a glut of waters bursts from some 
mighty torrent, rushes headlong over all the neighbouring 
plains, sweeps away the helpless cattle, and drives the affright- 
ed shepherd from his hut ; then, from the top of a distant emi- 
nence, to descry the danger we need not fear ; how pleasing ! 
— Such, methinks, is my present situation. For now the sun 
blazes from on high: The air glows with fire: The fields are 
rent with chinks: The roads are scorched to dust : The woods 
seem to contract a sickly aspect, and a russet hue. The tra- 
veller, broiled as he lides, hastens to his inn, and intermits his 
journey : The labourer, bathed in sweat, drops the scythe, 
and desists from his work : The cattle ilee to some shady co- 
vert or else pant and toss under the burning noon. Even the 
stubborn rock, smit with piercing beams, is ready to cleave. 
All things languish beneath the dazzling deluge. — While I shall 
enjoy a cool hour, and calm reflection, amidst the gloom of 
this bowery recess, which scarce admits one speck of sun-shine. 
Thus, may both the flock and their shepherd, dwell beneath 
the defence of the Most High, and abide under the shadow of 
the Ahnigkty.\ Then, though thej pestilence waiketh in dark- 
ness, and the sickness destroy at noonday, though thousands 
■-fall beside us, and ten thousand at our right hand ; we need 
fear no evil. Either the destroying angel shall pass over our 
houses ; or else he shall dispense the corrections of a friend, not 
the scourges of an enemy : which, instead of hurting us, shali 
work for our good. — Then, though profaneness and infidelity, 
far more malignant evils, breathe deadly contagion, and taint 
ihe morals of multitudes around us ; yet, if the great Father of 
spirits " hide us in the hollow of his hand/' we shall hold fast 
our integrity, and be faithful unto death. 

* As Lucretius gave the hint for those observations, so he as- 
signs the reasons of the pleasures specified. It arises not from 
the consideration of another's misery ; this would argue t^e rank- 
est malevolence ; but from the agreeable contemplation of our 
own personal safety ; which, while we view circumstances that 
are pernicious to others, but harmless to ourselves, is not a lit- 
tle heightened by the contrast. Save mari magno, &c. 
f I J salm xci. 1. 

$ This was written, when a very infectious and mortal dis- 
temper raged in the neighbourhood. 



ON A -FLOWER-GARDEN. U7 

Let then, dearest Lord, O ! let thy servant, and the people 
committed to his care, be received into thy protection. Let us 
take sanctuary under that tree of life, erected m thy ignomi- 
nious cross. Let us fly for safety to that city of refuge, opened 
in thy bleeding wounds. These shall.be a sacred hiding-place, 
not to be pierced by the flames of divine wrath, or the fiery 
darts of temptation. Thy dying merits, and perfect obedience, 
shall be to our souls as rivers of waters in a dry place, or as the 
shadoiv of a great rock in a weary land. * 

But most of all, in that last tremendous day, when the hea- 
vens are rent asunder, and wrapped up like a scroll ; when thy 
almighty arm shall an est the sun in his career, and dash to 
pieces the structure of the universe : when the dead, both small 
_ and great, shall be gathered before the throne of thy glory ; 
and the fates of all mankind hang on the very point of a final 
irreversible decision -.—Then, blessed Jesus, let us be owned 
by thee, and we shall not be ashamed ; defended by thee, and 
we shall not be afraid. O ! may we at that awful, that unutter- 
ably important juncture, be covered with the wings of thy re- 
deeming love, and we shall behold all the horrible convulsions 
of expiring nature, with composure, and comfort! We shall 
even welcome the dissolution of all things, as the times of re- 
freshing from the presence of the LoRD.f 

There are, I perceive, who still attend the flow r ers ; and, 
in defiance of the sun, ply their work on every expanded blos- 
som. The bees I mean; that nation of chymists! to whom 
nature has communicated the rare and valuable secret of en- 
riching themselves, without impoverishing others ; who ex- 
tract the most delicious syrup from every fragrant herb, with- 
out wounding its substance, or diminishing its odours. — I take 
the more notice of these ingenious operators, because 1 would 
willingly make them my pattern.^ While the gay butterfly 
flutters her painted wings, and sips a little fantastic delight' 
only for the present moment; while the gloomy spider worse 
than idly busied, is preparing his insidious nests for destruc- 
tion, or sucking venom even from the most wholesome plants ; 
this frugal community are wisely employed in providing for 
futurity, and collecting a copious stock of the most balmy 
treasures. — And O ! might these meditations sink into my 
soul ! would the God who suggested each heavenly thought, 
vouchsafe to convert it into an established principle, to deter- 
mine all my inclinations and regulate my whole conduct ! I 
should then, gather advantages from the same gloomy objects, 

* Isa. xxxii. 2. f Acts iii. 19. 

| Ego apis matinas 

More modoque 

Grata carpentis tbymct* 



128 REFLECTIONS 

more precious than your golden stores, ye industrious artists. 
I also should go home, laden with the richest sweets, and the 
noblest spoils ; though I crop not a leaf, nor call a single flower 
my own. 

Here 1 behold assembled in one view, almost all the various 
beauties which have been severally entertaining my imagina- 
tion. The vistas struck through an ancient wood, or formed 
by rows of venerable elms ; conducting the spectator's obser- 
vation to some remarkable object ; or leading the traveller's 
footsteps to this delightful seat : — The walls, enriched with 
fruit trees, and faced with the covering ©f their leafy exten- 
sions; I should rather have said, hung with different pieces of 
Nature's noblest tapestry : — The walks, neatly shorn and lined 

with verdure ; or finely smoothed and coated with gravel : 

The alleys arched with shades, to embower our noon-tide re^ 
pose ; or thrown open for the free accession of air, to invite us 
to our evening recreation : — The decent edgings of box, which 
inclose, like a plain selvage, each beautiful compartment, and 

its splendid figures: The shapely ever-greens and flozver* 

ing shrubs, which strike the eye, and appear with peculiar 
dignity in this distant situation ; — The hasou with its chrystal 
front, floating in the centre, and diffusing an agreeable fresh* 
ness through the whole t — The waters falling from a remote 
cascade, and gently murmuring, as they flow along the peb- 
bles : — These added to the rest ; and so disposed, that each 
recommends and endears each, render the whole a most sweet 
ravishing scene, of order and variety, of elegance and mag- 
nificence. 

From so many lovely prospects clustering upon the sights 
it is impossible not to be reminded of heaven that world of 
bliss, those regions of light, where the Lamb that was slain 
manifests his beatific presence, and his saints live for evermore. 
■ — But O ! what pencil can sketch out a draught of that goodly 
land ? What colours, or what style can express the splendours 
of Im Manuel's kingdom ! Would some celestial hand draw 
aside the veil, but for one moment, and permit us to throw a 
single glance on these divine abodes ; how would all sublunary 
possessions become tarnished in our eyes, and grow flat upon 
our taste ! A glimpse, a transient glimpse of those unuUerable 
beatitudes would captivate our souls, and engross all th^ir 
faculties, Eden itself, after such a vision, would appear a 
cheerless desert : and all earthly charms intolerable deformity. 

Very excellent things are spoken of thee, thou city of God,* 
Volumes have been written, and those by inspired men, to dis- 
play the wonders of thy perfections. All that is rich and res- 

* Psalm Tw:xvii. 2. 



ON A $ LOWER-GARDEN. 129 

plendent in the visible creation, has been called in to aid our 
conceptions, and elevate our ideas. But indeed, no tongue 
can utter, no pen can describe, no fancy can imagine, what 
God of his unbounded munificence, has prepared for them 
that love him. — Seeing then that all terrestrial things must come 
to a speedy end ; and there remaineth a rest, a blissful and 
everlasting rest, for the people of God ; let me never be too 
fondly attached to any present satisfactions. Weaned from , 
whatever is temporal, may I maintain a superior indifference 
for such transitory enjoyments ; but long, long earnestly, for 
the mansions that are above ; the paradise, " which the Lord 
hath planted, and not man." Thither may I transmit the 
chief of my conversation ; and from thence expect the whole 
of my happiness. Be that the sacred, powerful magnet, which 
ever influences my heart, ever attracts my affections. There 
are such transcendant glories as the eye has not seen ! there 
are such transporting pleasures, as ear has not heard ; tJiere is 
such a fulness of joy, as the thought of man cannot conceive. 

Into that consummate felicity, those eternal fruitions, permit 
me, Madam, to wish you, in due time, an abundant entrance ; 
and to assure you, that this wish is breathed with the same sin- 
cerity and ardour* for my honoured correspondent, as it is, 
Madam, for $ 

Your most obedient, fyc. 

JAMES BERVEY, 



A 

DESCANT 

UPON 

CREATION, 



With joy, with grief, that healing hand I see ; 
The skies it form' d, and yet it bled^or me. 

Night Thoughts, No. IV. 



F the readei pleases to look back on page 102, he will find 
me engaged, by a promissory note, to subjoin a DES- 
CENT upon CREATION. 

To know the lore of Christ ; to have such a deep appre- 
hension of his unspeakable kindness, as may produce in our 
hearts an adoring gratitude, and an -unfeigned faith ; this, 
according to St. Paul's estimate, is the highest and happiest at- 
tainment in the sacred science of Christianity.'* What follows, 
is an attempt to assist the attentive mind, in learning a line or 
two of that best and greatest lesson. It introduces the most 
conspicuous parts of the visible system, as so many prompters 
to our dull affections ; each suggesting a hint, adapted to the 
important occasion, and suited to its respective character. 

Can there be a more powerful incentive to devout gratitude, 
than to consider the magnificent and delicate scenes of the uni- 
verse, with a particular reference to Christ, as the Creator ? 
— Every object, viewed in this light, will surely administer in- 
cessant recruits to the languishing lamp of divine love. Every 
production in Nature will strike a spark into the soul ; and the 
whole creation concur to raise the smoking flax into a flame. 

Can any thing impart a stronger joy to the believer, or more 
effectually confirm \\\% faith in the crucified Jesus, than to be- 
hold the heavens declaring his glory, and the firmament shew- 
ing his handy-work ? — Surely, it must be matter of inexpres- 
sible consolation to the poor sinner, to observe the honours of 
* Ephes. iii. 19. 



UPON CREATION, 131 

his Redeemer, written with sun-beams, over all the face of 
the world. 

We delight to read an account of our incarnate Jehovah, 
as he is revealed in the buoks of Moses and the prophets, as he 
is displayed in the writings of the evangelists and apostles. 
Let us also endeavour to see a sketch of his perfections, as they 
stand delineated in that stately volume, where every leaf is a 
spacious plain, — every line a flowing brook } — every period, a 
lofty mountain. 

Should any of my readers be unexercised in such specula- 
tions ; I beg leave (in pursuance of my promise) to present 
them with a specimen ; or to offer a clue, which may possibly 
lead their minds into this most improving and delightful train 
of thinking. 

Should any be inclined to suspect the solidity of the follow- 
ing observations, or to condemn them, as the voice of rant, 
and the lawless flight of fancy ; I must entreat such persons to 
recollect, that the grand doctrine, the hinge on which they 
all turn, is warranted and established by the unanimous testi- 
mony of the inspired penmen ; who frequently celebrate IM~ 
MANUEL, or CHRIST JESUS, as the great almighty cause 
of all ; assuring us, that all things ivere created by him, and 
for him ; and that in him all things consist,* 

On such a subject, what is wonderful, is far from being 
extravagant. To be wonderful, is the inseparable characteris- 
tic of God and his works ; especially of that most distinguish- 
ed and glorious event of the divine works, REDEMPTION ; 
so glorious, " that all the miracles' in Egypt, and the marvel- 
lous acts in the field of Zoan ;" all that the Jewish annals have 
recorded, or the human ear has heard ; fall into trivial events, 
are scarce worthy to be remembered,f in comparison of this 
infinitely grand and infinitely gracious transaction. — Kindled, 
therefore, into pleasing astonishment, by such a survey, let 
me give full scope to my meditations. Let me pour out my 
whole soul on the boundless subject; not much regarding the 
limits, which cold criticism, or colder unbelief, might prescribe, 

O ye Angels, that surround the throne ; ye Princes of Heav- 
en, " that excel in strength," and are clothed with transcend- 
ant brightness ; He, who placed you in those stations of exalted 
, honour, and dignified your nature with such illustrious endow- 
i ments ;. He, whom you all obey, and all adore : HE took not 
on him, the angelid form, but was made flesh, and found in 
fashion as a man/ Like us wretched mortals, He was subject 

* Col. 1. 16, 17. Before my reader enters upon the following- 
Pescant, he is desired to peruse the Note, page 102. 
f Iaa. xliii. 18. 



133 A DESCAxNT 

to weariness, pain, and every other infirmity, sin only except- 
ed : that we might, one day, be raised to our sublime 

abodes: be adopted into your blissful society ; and join with 
your transported choir, in giving glory to HIM that silteth up- 
on the throne, and to the LAMB for ever and ever. * 

O ye heavens y whose azure arches rise immensely high, and 
stretch unmeasurably wide ; stupendous amphitheatre ! amidst 
whose vast expansive circuit, orbs of the most dreadful .grand- 
eur are perpetually running their amazing races. Unfathoma- 
ble depths of aether ! where worlds unnumbered float ; and, to 
our limited sight, worlds unnumbered are lost: — — He, who 
adjusted your dimensions with his span, and formed the magni- 
ficent structure with his word ; HE was once wrapt in swad- 
dling clothes, and laid in a manger : — That the benefits ac- 
cruing to his people, through his most meritorious humiliation, 
might have no other measure of their value than immensity ; 
might run parallel, in their duration, with eternity. 

Ye stars, that beam with inextinguishable brilliancy, thro* 
the midnight sky ; oceans of flame, and centres of world?, 

though seemingly little points of light !■ He who shone, 

with essential effulgency innumerable ages, before your twink- 
ling tapers were kindled; and will shine with everlasting ma- 
jesty and beauty, when your places in the firmament shall be 
known no more : He was involved, for many years in the deep- 
est obscurity : lay concealed in the contemptible city of Na- 
zareth : lay disguised under the mean habit of a carpenter's 

son: -That he might plant the heavens, f as it were, with 

new constellations : and array these clods of earth, these houses 
of clay, with a radiancy far superior to yours; a radiancy, 
which will adorn the very heaven of heavens, when you shall 
vanish away like smokej ; or expire, as momentary sparks 
from the smitten steel. 

* Rev. v. 13. t Isa.lL 16. 

i Alluding to a passage in Isaiah, which is, I think, grand 
and elevated beyond all comparison. 

Lift up your eyes to the heavens, and look upon the 

earth beneath ; for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, 
and the earth shall wax old like a garment, and they that dwell 
therein shall die like the feeble insect : But my righteousness shall 
be for ever, and my salvation shall not be abolished, Isa. li 6. 
— — With the great Vitringa, I translate it not in like manner* 
but like the feeble insect. Which renders the period more com- 
plete ; the sense more emphatical ; and is more agreeable to the 
genius of the sacred original. 



UPON CREATION, J33 

COMETS, that sometimes shoot into the illimitable tracts 
$f aether, farther than the discernment of our eye is able to .fol- 
low ; sometimes return from the long, long excursion, and 
sweeps our affrighted hemisphere with your enormous fiery, 
train; that sometimes make near approaches to the sun, and 
burn almost in his immediate beams; sometimes retire to t he- 
remotest distance, and freeze for ages, in the excessive rigours 
of Winter: He who, at his sovereign pleasure, withdraws the 
blazing wonder ; or leads forth the portentous stranger, to 
shake terror over guilty kingdoms ; HE was overwhelmed with 
the most shocking amazement, and plunged into the deepest 
anxiety ; was chilled with apprehensions of fear, and scorched 
by the flames of avenging wrath : — -That 1, and other de- 
praved rebellious creatures, might not be eternally agitated 
with'the extremes of jarring passions; opposite, yet, on either 
side, tormenting ; far more tormenting to the soul, than the 
severest degrees of your heat and cold to the human sense. 

Ye planets, that, winged with unimaginable speed, traverse 
the regions of the sky ; sometimes climbing millions and mil- 
lions of miles above, sometimes descending as far below, the 
great axel of your motions ; Yet, that are so minutely faithful 
to the vicissitudes of day and night; so exactly punctual m 
bringing on the changes of your respective seasons ; — He, w ho 
launched you, at first, from his mighty arm ; who continually 
impels you with such wonderful rapidity, and guides you with 
such perfect regularity; who fixes " the habitation of his ho- 
liness and his glory," infinite heights above our scanty rounds ; 
jEiE once became a helpless infant, sojourned ki our inferior 
world ; lied from the persecutor's sword, and wandered as a 
vagabond in a foreign land ; — That he might lead our feet into 
the way of peace : that he might bring us aliens near to God, 
bring us exiles home to heaven. 

Thou swz, mexhaustable source of light, and heat, and com* 
fort J without. -whose presence an universal gloom would ensue, 
and horror insupportable ; who without the assistance of any 
other fire, sheddest day through a thousand realms ; and, not 
confining thy munificence to realms only, extendeth thy en- 
lightening influences to surrounding worlds : Prime chearer of 
the animal, and great enlivener of the vegetable tribes ! So 
beautiful in thyself, so beneficial in thy eifects, that erring 
Heathens addressed thee with adoration, and mistook thee for 
thy Maker !— — He, who filled thy orb with a profusion of 
lustre ; lustre in its direct emanations, unsurTerably bright, but 
rebated by thy reflection, delightfully mild :— — He, before 
whom tbv meridian splendors are but a shade : whose Jove 

M 



134 A DESCANT 

transfused into the heart, is infinitely more exhilarating, than 
even the sweet and clear shining after the rain : HE divest- 
ed himself of his all-transcending distinctions, and drew a veil 
over the effulgence of his divinity: that, by speaking tons, 
face to face as a man speaketh unto his friend, he might dispel 
our intellectual darkness. His " visage was marred/''* and 
he became the scorn of men, the outcast of the people; that 
by this manifestation of his unutterable tender regard for our 
welfare, he might diffuse many a gleam of joy through our de- 
jected minds: That, in another state of things, he ifti 
clothe even our fallen nature, with the honours of that magni- 
ficent luminary; and give all the righteous to shine forth as 
the sun, in the kingdom of their Father. 

Thou moon, that walketh among the host of stars, and, in 
thy lucid appearance, art superior to them all : Fair ruler of 
the night ! Sometimes, half-restoring the day, with thy waxing 
brightness ; sometimes waining into dimness, and scarcely 
scattering the nocturnal gloom, sometimes covered with sack- 
cloth, and alarming the gazing nations. He, who dresses 

thy opaque globe, in beaming, but borrowed silver ; He, 
whose dignity is unchangeable, underived, and all his own ; 
He vouchsafed to wear a body of clay : HE was content to ap- 
pear as in a bloody eclipse, shorn of his resplendant beams, and 
surrounded with a night of horror, which knew not one reviv- 
ing ray. — Thus has he impowered his church, and all believ- 
ers, to tread the moon under their feet.f Hence inspired^with 
the hope of brighter glory, and of more enduring bliss, are they 
enabled to triumph over all the vain anxieties, and vainer 
amusements, of this sublunary, precarious, mutable world. 

Ye thunders, that, awfully grumbling in the distant cloud?, 
seem to meditate indignation, and form the first essays of a far 
more frightful peal : or, suddenly bursting over our heads, 
rend the vault above, and shake the ground below, with the 
hideous, horrid crack: Ye, that send your tremendous vollies 
from pole to pole, startling the savage herds,J and astonishing 

the human race: He, who permits Terror to sound her 

trumpet, in your deep, prolonged, enlarging, aggravated roar: 

HE uttered a feeble infantile cry in the stable, and strong 

expiring groan on the accursed tree: — — That he might in the 
gentlest accents, whisper peace to our souls ; and, at length 
tune our voices to the melody of heaven. 

O ye lightnings, that brood, and lie couchant, in the sul- 
phurous vapours ; that glance, with forked fury, from the an- 

* Isa. lii. 14. * f Rev. xii. 1. J Psalm xxix. 8. 



UPON CREATION. 135 

gry gloom, swifter and fiercer than the lion rushes from his 
den ; or open into vast expansive sheets of flame, sublimely 
waved over the prostrate world, and fearfully lingering in the 
frighted skies: Ye, that formerly laid in ashes the licentious 
abodes of lust and violence: that will, ere long, set on fire the 

elements, and co-operate in the conflagration of the globe : - 

He who kindles your flash, and directs you when to sally, 

and where to strike :-— He, who commissions your whirling 

bolts, whom to kill, and whom to spare: -HE resigned his 

sacred person to the most barbarous indignities : submitted his 
beneficent hands to the ponderous hammer, and the piercing 
nail; yea, withheld not his heart, his very heart, from the 
stab of the executioner's spear : And, instead of flashing con- 
fusion on his outrageous tormentors : instead of striking them 
dead to the earth or plunging them to the depths of hell, with 
his frown ; He cried in his last moments and with his ago- 
nizing lips, He cried, Father forgive them; for they 
, know not what they do ! — O ! what a pattern of pa- 
tience for his saints ! what an object of admiration for angels ! 
what a constellation of every mild, amiable, and benign vir- 
tue ; shining, in this hour of darkness, with ineffable splendor 
and beauty !*- Hence, hence it is, that we are not trern- 

* One can hardly forbear animadverting upon the disingenu- 
ous temper, and perverse taste of Celsus; who attempts to turn 
this most distinguished and ornamental part of our Lord's life 
into ridicule and reproach —Having spoken of Christ as des- 
pitefuliy used, and arrayed in a purple robe ; crowned with 
thorns ; and holding, by way of mock-majesty, a reed instead 
of a sceptre, (for he enters into all these circumstances, which 
is a testimony to their truth, even from the mouth of an ene- 
my ;) he adds — Why, in the name of viondcr, does be not on this 
occasion, at least act the God? Why does he not deliver himself 
from the shocking ignominy: or execute some signal vengeance on the 
authors of stich injurious and abusive insults, both of himself and 
his Father P — Why Celsus ? Because HE was meekness and gen- 
tleness itself : whereas your deities were slaves to their own tur- 
bulent and resentful passions. Because they were little better 
than savages in -human, shape ; who too often made a merit of 
slaughter, and took horrid pride in spilling blood. While 
Christ w r as the Prince of peace, and came not to destroy men's 
lives, but to save. Because any madman on earth, or fury 
from hell, is capable of venting his rage : But who, amidst such 
imsufferable provocations and barbarities ; who, having in his 
own hand the power to avenge himself; could submit to all with 
an unruffled serenity of patience ; and not only not be exaspe- 
rated, but overcome , in so triumphant a manner, evil with good? 
— None but Christ ! none but Christ ! This was compas- 
sion worthy of a God ; clemency and charity truly divine* 



j36 A DESCANT 

biing under the .lightnings of mount Sinai • that we are not 
blasted by the flames ot divine vengeance ; or doomed to 
el well with everlasting burnings. 

Ye frowning wintry clouds ; oceans pendent in the air, and 
burdening the winds; He, in whose hand you are an over- 
sowing scourge: or, by whose appointment, an arsenal* of 
warlike stores : — He, who opens your sluices, and a flood 
gushes forth ; to destroy the fruits of the earth, and drown the 
husbandman's hopes ; who moulds ydu into frozen balls, and 
you are shot, linked with deathf on the troops of his ene- 
mies : He, instead of discharging the furiousness of his 

wrath upon this guilty head, poured out his prayers, poured 
out his sighs, poured out his very soul for me and my fellow- 
transgressors : — That, by virtue of his inestimable propitiation, 
the overflowings of divine good will might be extended to sin- 
ful men ; that the skies might pour down righteousness ; and 
peace on her downy wings, peace with her balmy blessings, 
descend to dwell on earth. 

Ye vernal clouds ; furls of a finer air, folds of softer moist- 
ure : He, who draws you in copious exhalations, from the briny 

Therefore, the calumny raised by the same virulent objector 
in another place, carries its own confutation ; or rather, falls 
with a weight of infamy on his dunghill deities ; while it bears 
a most honourable testimony to the majestic and invincible meek- 
ness of our Saviour. — You indeed, says he to the Christian, take 
upon you to deride the images of our deities ; but if Bacchus him- 
self, or Hercules had been present, you would not have dared to of- 
fer such an affront ; or if you had been so presumptuous , would hate 
severely smarted for your insolence: Whereas, they who tormented 
the very person of your God, and even extended him vsith mortal 
agony on the cross, suffered no effects of his displeasure. 

* Juvenal seems to consider the clouds under the same cha- 
racter, in that beautiful line : 

SQuicquid habent telorum armamevtarea cocli. 

f yob has informed us for what purpose the magazines of Ute 
firmament are stocked with hail. That they may be ready 
against the day of battle and war, Job. xxxviii. 23.— -Joshua has 
lecorded what a terrible slaughter has been made by those mis* 
&ive weapons o£ the Almighty, fash. x. 11. — Modern historians 
relate, that when Edward III. invaded France, a shower of hail 
stones descended, of such a prodigious size, that six thousand 
horses, and one thousand men were struck dead instantaneously, 
—But the most dreadful description of xhis great ordinance of the 
heavens, is given u£ in Rev. xvi. 21. There fell upon all men a 
great hail out of heaven, every stone about the weight of a talent > 



UPON CREATION. 137 

deep ; bids you leave every distasteful quality behind ; and be- 
come floating fountains of sweetest waters :— -He, whodesolves 
yon into gentle rain, and dismisses you in fruitful showers; who 
kindly commissions you to drop down fatness as you fail, and 
to . scatter ilowers over the field : — HE, in the unutterable bitter- 
ness of his spirit, was without any comforting sense of his al- 
mighty Father's presence: — He, when his bones were burnt up 
like a "fire brand, had not one drop of that sacred consolation, 
which, on many of his afflicted servants, has been distilled as 
the evening dews, and has " given songs in the night" of dis- 
tress :— -That, from this unallayed and inconsolable anguish of 
our all-gracious Master, we, as from a well of .salvation, might 
derive large draughts of spiritual refreshment. 

Thou grand ethereal bow ; whose beauties flush the firma- 
ment, and charm every spectator ; He, who paints thee on the 
fluid skirts of the sky ; who decks thee with all the pride of 
colours ; and bends thee into that graceful and majestic figure; 
at whose command thy vivid streaks sweetly rise, or swiftly 
fade; — HE, through all his life, was arrayed in the humble 
garb of poverty ; and, at his exit, wore the gorgeous garment 
of contempt. — Insomuch that even his own familiar friends, 
ashamed or afraid to own him, " hid as it were, their faces 
from him !"* — To teach us a becoming disdain,, for the unsub- 
stantial and transitory glitter of all worldly vanities : To intro- 
duce us, in robes brighter than the tinges of thy resplendent 
arch; even in the robes of his own immaculate righteousness, 
%o introduce us before that august and venerable throne, which 
the peaceful rainbow surrounds ; surrounds, as a pledge of in- 
violable fidelity, and infinite mercy. 

Ye storms and tempests, which vex the continent, and toss 
the seas ; which dash navies on the rocks, and drive forests 
from the roots: He, whose breath rouses -you into such resist- 
less fury, and whose nod cpntrouls you in your wildest career : 
He, who holds the rapid and raging hurricane in straitened 
reins ; and walks dreadfully serene, on the very wings of the 
wind : HE went, all meek and gentle, like a lamb to the 
slaughter for us ; and, as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, 
so he opened not his mouth, — Thus are we instructed to bear, 
with decent magnanimity, the various assaults of adversity ; 
and to pass, with a becoming tranquillity of temper, through 
all the rude blasts of injurious treatment. Thus are we deliver- 

* Isa. liii. 3. Fuit tanquam aliquis , a quo quisquefaciem occul- 
tdret. He was as some flagitious and abandoned wretch, from 
whom every one, disdaining such a character, and disclaiming 
Such an acquaintance, studiously hid his face. 
M 2 



138 A DESCANT 

&\ from the unutterably fiercer storm of incensed and inexora- 
ble justice; from the " fire, the brimstone, and the horribte" 
tempest, which will be the final portion of the ungodly." 

Thou pestilence, that scatterest ten thousand poisons from 
thy baleful wings; tainting the air, and infecting the nations ; 
under whose malignant influence, joy is blasted, and nature 
sickens ; mighty regions are depopulated, and once crouded 
cities are left without inhabitants : He, who arms thee with 
inevitable destruction, and bids thee march before his angry 
countenance,* to spread desolation among the tents of the 
wicked, and be the forerunner of far more fearful indignation : 
HE, in his holy humanity, was arraigned as a criminal ; and, 
though innocence itself, yea,, the very pattern of perfection, 
"was condemned to die, like the most execrable miscreant. As 
a nuisance to society, and the very bane of the public happi- 
ness, he was hurried away to execution, and hammered to the 

gibbet ; That, by his blood, he might prepare a sovereign 

medicine to cure us of a more fatal distemper, than the pesti- 
lence which walketh in darkness, or the sickness which des- 
troy eth at noon-day: That he might himself say to our last 
enemy, " O death, I will be thy plague ; O grave, 1 will be 
thy destruction. "f 

HEAT, whose burning influence parches the Lyhian wilds ; 
tans into soot the Ethiopian's complexion; and makes every 
species of life pant, and droop, and languish : Cold, whose 
icy breath glazes yearly the Russian seas ; often glues the fro- 
zen sailor to the cordage ; and stiffens the traveller ijnto a statue 
of rigid flesh : — HE, who sometimes blends you both, and 
produces the most agreeable temperature ; sometimes suffers 
you to act separately, and rage with intolerable severity ; that 
King of Heaven, and coritrouler of universal nature, when 
dwelling in a tabernacle of clay, was exposed to chilling damps, 
and smitten by sultry beams : The stars, in their midnight 
watches, heard him pray ; and the sun, in his meridian fer- 
vours, saw him toil. Hence are our frozen hearts dissolved 
into a mingled flow of wonder, love, and joy ; being consci- 
ous of a deliverance from those insufferable flames, which, 
kindled by divine indignation, burn to the lowest hell. 

Thou ocean, vast world of waters ! He, who sunk that capa- 
cious bed for thy reception, and poured the liquid element in- 
to unfathomable channels ; before whom all thy foaming bil- 
lows, and floating mountains are as the small drop of a bucket; 

* Before him went the pestilence; Mab, iii. 5. 
f Hos. xiii, 14. 



UPON CREATION. 139 

who, by the least intimation of his will, swells thy fluid king- 
doms in -wild contusion, to mingle with the clouds: or reduces 
them, in calm composure, to slumber on the shores : He, who 
once gave thee a warrant to overwhelm the whole earth, and 
bury all its degenerate inhabitants in a watery grave ; but has 
now laid an everlasting embargo on the boisterous waves ; and 
bound thee, all fierce and madding as thou art, in chains 
stronger than adamant, yet formed of despicable sand : — AM 
the waves of vengeance and wrath, of tribulation and anguish, 
passed over his crucified body, and his agonizing soul : That 
we might emmerge from those depths of misery, from that 
abyss of guilt into which we were plunged by Adam's fill, and 
more irretrievably sunk by our own transgressions ; That, at 
the least, we might be restored to that happy world, which is 
represented in the vision of God, as having no sea ;■* to de- 
note its perpetual stability, and undisturbed serenity. 

Ye mountains, that overlook the clouds,.and project a shade 
into distant provinces : — Everlasting pyramids of nature, not 
to be shaken by conflicting elements ; not to be shattered by 
the bolts of thunder ; nor impaired even by the ravages of 
time : — He, who bid your ridges rise so high, and your founda- 
tions stand so fast : He, in whose scale you are lighter than 
dust ; in whose eye you are less than nothing: — HE sunk be- 
neath a load of woes ; woes unsupportable, but not his own ; 
when he took our iniquities upon himself, and heaved the more 
than mountainous burden from a guilty world. 

Ye verdant woods, that crown our hills, and are crowned 
yourselves with leafy honours : Ye humble shrubs, adorned 
in Spring, with opening blossoms ; and fanned, in Summer, 
by gentle gales: Ye, that in distant climes, or in cultivated 
gardens, breathe out spicy odours, and embalm the air with de- 
lightful perfumes : Your all-glorious and ever-blessed Cre- 
ator's head was encircled with the thorny wreath ; his face was 
defded with contumelous spitting ; and his body bathed in a 
bloody sweat ; that he might wear the crown — The crown of 
glory, which* fadeth not away; and live for evermore, sur- 
rounded with delights, as much surpassing yours, as yours ex- 
ceed the rugged desolations of Winter. 

Thou mantling vine ; He who hangs on thy slender shoots, 
the rich, transparent, weighty cluster ; who under thy orna- 
mented foliage, and amidst the pores of thy otherwise worthless 

hough, prepares the liquor the refined and exalted liqnor, 

which cheers the nations, and fills the cup of joy, Trtes $ 

* Rew xxL 1, 



UO A DESCANT 

whose branches are elevated and waving in air ; or diffused in 
easy confinement, along a sunny wall : He, who bends you 
with a lovely burden of delicious fruits : whose genial warmth 
beautifies their rind, and mellows their taste HE, when vo- 
luntarily subject to our wants, instead of being refreshed with 
your generous juices, or regaled with your luscious pulp ; had 
a loathsome portion of vinegar, mingled with gall, addressed to 
his lips : That we might sit under the shadow of his mer- 
its, with great tranquility, and the utmost complacency : That, 
ere long, being admitted into the paradise of God, we might 
eat of the tree of life ;* and drink new wine with him in his 
Father's kingdom. 

Ye luxuriant meadows ; He who, without the seed-man's in- 
dustry, replenishes your irriguous lap with never- failing crops 
of herbage ; and enamels their cheerful greens with flowers of 
every hue : — Ye feritiejields ; He, who blesses the labours of 
the husbandman ; enriches your well tilled plains with waving 
harvests, and calls forth the staff of life from your furrows : He; 
who causes both meadows and fields to laugh and sing, for 
the abundance of plenty : — HE was no stranger to corroding 
hunger, and parching thirst ; He, alas ! eat the bitter bread of 
woe, and had " plenteousness of tears to drink ;" — That we 
might partake of richer dainties, than those which are produced 
by the dew of heaven, and proceed from the fatness of the 
earth : That we might feed on "the hidden manna," and eat 
the bread which giveth life, eternal life, unto the world. 

Ye mines, rich in yellow ore, or bright with veins of silver ; 
that distribute your shining treasures, as far as winds can waft 
the vessels of commerce ; that bestow your alms on monarchs, 

and have princes for your pensioners : Ye beds of gems, 

toyshops of Nature ! which form, in dark retirement the glit- 
tering stone ; Diamonds, that sparkle with a brilliant water: 
Rubies, that glow with a crimson flame : Emeralds, dipped in 
the freshest verdure of Spring: Sapphires, decked with the 
fairest drapery of the sky : Topaz, emblazoned with a golden 
gleam : Amethyst, impurpled with the blushes of the morn- 
ing : He, who tinctures the metallic dust, and consolidates 

the lucid drop ; HE, when sojoarning on earth, had no riches, 
but the riches of disinterested benevolence ; had no ornament, 
but the ornament of unspotted purity. Poor he was in his 
circumstances, and mean in all his accommodations: That we 
might be rich in grace, and obtain " salvation with eternal 
glory :* That we might inhabit the new Jerusalem, that splen- 
did city ! whose streets are paved with gold ; whose gates are 
* Rev, ii. 7, 



UPON CREATION. 141 

formed of pearl ; and the walls garnished with all manner of 
precious stones,* 

Ye gushing fountains, that trickle potable silver through 
the matted grass : Ye fine transparent streams, that glide in 
chrystal waves, along your fringed banks : Ye deep and stately 
rivers, that wind and wander m your course, to spread your 
favours wider; that gladden kingdoms in your progress, and 
augment the sea with your tribute :— He, who supplies all 
your currents from his own over-flowing and inexhaustible li- 
berality ; He, when his nerves were racked with exquisite pain, 
and his blood inflamed by a raging fever, cried, Thirst ; 
and was denied (unparalleled hardship !) in this his great ex- 
tremity, was denied the poor refreshment of a single drop of 

water : That we, having all-sufficiency in all things, might 

abound to every good work ; might be filled with the fullness 
of spiritual blessings here, and hereafter be satisfied with that 
fulness of joy, "which is at God's right-hand for evermore. 

Ye birds, cheerful tenants of the bough, gaily dressed in 
glossy plumage ; who wake the morn, and solace the groves, 
"with your artless lays : Inimitable architects! Who, without 
rule or line, build your pensile structures, "with ail the nicety 
of proportion : You have each his commodious nest, roofed 
with shades, and lined with warmth, to protect and cherish 
the callow brood. — But he, who tuned vour throats to harmo- 
ny, and taught you that curious skiil ; tiE was a man of sor- 
rows, and had not where to lay his head, till he felt the pangs 
of dissolution, and was laid in the silent grave : — That we, 
dwelling under the wings of Omnipotence, and resting in the 
bosom of infinite love, might spend an harmonious eternity, in 
" singing the song of Moses, and of the LAMB." 

BEES, industrious workmen ! that sweep, with busy wing, 
the flowery garden ; and search the blooming heath ; and sip 
the mellifluous dews ; Strangers to idleness ! that ply, with in- 
cessant assiduity, your pleasing task; and suffer no opening 
blossom to pass unexplored, no sunny gleam to slip away un- 
improved : Most ingenious artificers ? that cling to the frag- 
rant buds ; drain them of their treasured sweets; and extract, 
(if I may so speak) even the odoriferous souls of herbs, and 

plants, and flowers : -You, when you have completed your 

work ; have collected, refined, and securely lodged the am- 
brosia! stores; when you might reasonably expect the peaceful 
fruition of your acquisitions ; you, alas ! are barbarously des- 
troyed, and leave your hoarded delicacies to others ; leave 
* * Rev. xxi. 19, 21* 



142 A DESCANT 

them to be enjoyed by your very murderers. I cannot but 

pity your hard destiny ! How then should my bowels meit 

with Sympathy, and my eyes flow with tears, * when I remem- 
ber, that thus — thus it fared with your and our incarnate Ma- 
ker! After a Mfe filled with offices of benelicenee, and labours 
of love ; HE was, by wicked hands, crucified and slain. He 
left the honey of his toil, the balm of his blood, and the riches 
of his obedience, to be shared among others ; to be shared 
even among those, who too often crucify him afresh, and put 
him to open shame. 

Shall I mention the animal/}* that spins her soft, her shining, 
exquisitely fine silken thread? whose matchless manufactures 
lend an ornament to grandeur, and make royalty itself more 

magnificent. Shall I take notice of the cell, in which, when 

the gaiety and business of life are over, the little recluse im- 
mures herself, and spends the remainder of her days in retire- 
ment? Shall I rather observe the sepulchre, which, when 

cloyed wiih pleasure and weary of the world, she prepares for 
her own interment ? Or how, when a stated period is elapsed, 
she wakes from a death-iike inactivity ; breaks the Enclosure 
of her tomb ; throws off the dusky shroud ; assumes a ne\fr 
form ; puts on a more sumptuous array ; and from an insect, 
creeping on the ground, becomes a winged inhabitant of the 

air? No: this is a poor reptiles and therefore unworthy 

to serve as an illustration, when anV character of the Son of 

* Canst thou, ungrateful man, his torments see, 

Nor drop a tear for HIM, who pour'd his blood for thee ? 

Pitt's Poem*. 

f No one, I hope, will be offended at my introducing on such 
an occasion, creatures of so low a rank. Since even the vol- 
umes of inspiration seem to lend me the sanction of their sa- 
cred authority ; as they disdain not to compare the blessed Je- 
svs to a door, a highway, life. And, perhaps, all comparisons 
which respect a being of infinite dignity, are not only mean, 
but equally mean and unworthy. 

I am sensible, likewise, that m this paragraph , and some others, 
«//the circumstances are not completely correspondent. But if, 
in some grand particulars, the rendition answers to the descrip- 
tion, this, I trust, will be sufficient for my purpose, and satisfac- 
tory to my readers. — Perhaps, it would be no mistaken caution, 
to apply the same observation to many of the beautiful simili- 
tudes, parables, and allegories used by our Lord ; such as the 
brazen serpent, the unjust steward, the thief in the night, &c. 
which, if scrupulously sifted, or rigorously strained, for an en- 
tire coincidence in every circumstance, must appear to great 
disadvantages, aad lead into palpable inconveniencies. 



.' 



UPON CREATION. 143 

God comes under consideration. But let me correct myself. 
Was not Christ (to use the language of his own blessed spi- 
rit) a zuorm and no man ? % In appearance such, and treated 
as such. Did he not also bequeath the fine linen of his own 
most perfect righteousness, to compose the marriage-garmentf 

* Psalm xxii. 16. 

f This, and several other hints, interspersed in the two vol* 
t'.mcs, refer to the active and passive righteousness of Christ, 
imputed to believers for their justification : which, in the opin- 
ion of many great expositors, is the mystical and most sublime 
meaning of the iveddi?ig-garme?it, so emphatically and forcibly 
recommended by the Teacher sent. from God, Matth. xxii. 11. 
A doctrine, which some of those, who honour my Meditations 
with a perusal, probably may not receive with much, if any, ap- 
probation. I hope the whole performance will not be cashiered 
for one difference in sentiment. And I beg, that the sentiment 
itself may not hastily be rejected without a serious hearing. For 
I have the pleasure of being intimately acquainted with a gentle- 
man of good learning and distinguished sense, who had once as 
strong prepossessions against this tenet, as can be well imagined. 
Yet now he not only admits it, as a truth ; but embraces it, as the 
joy 01 his heart ; and cleaves to it, as the rock of his hopes. 

A clear and cogent treatise, entitled, Submission to the right* 
tciisness ofGoD, was the instrument of removing his prejudices* 
and reducing him to abetter judgment.— In which he has been 
happily confirmed by the authority of the most illustrious 
names, and the works of the most eminent pens, that have ever 
adorned our church and nation. In this number are — Bishop 
yewtl one of our great reformers ; and the other venerable com- 
pilers of homilies; — Archbishop Usher, that oracle of universal 
learning;— Bishop Hall , the devout and sprightly orator of his 
age ; — the copious and fervent Bishop Hopkins ; — the singular- 
ly good and unaffected Bishop Beveridge ; — that everlasting ho- 
nour of the bench of judicature, Lord Chief Justice Hales /— ~ 
the nervous, florid, and persuasive Dean Stanhope ; — the prac- 
tical and perspicuous Mr. Burkitt ,•< — and, to summon no other 
evidence, that matchless genius Milton P who, in various parts 
of his divine poern, inculcates this comfortable truth ; and in 
one passage, represents it under the very same image, which is 
made use of above, booh X. iih, 222. 

I had almost forgot to mention, that the treatise entitled, 
Submission, &c. was written by Mr. Benjamin Jtnks ;— whose 
book of devotions has deservedly passed through eleven editions ; 
is truly admired for the sublimity, spirituality, and propriety of 
the sentiments; as well as for the concise form, and pathetic 
turn of the expression : — Whose book of meditations, though 
not less worthy of general acceptance, has, for a considerable 
time ; been almost unknown and extinct ; but it is now revived, 



144 A DESCANT 

for our disrayed and defiled souls ! Did he not, before his flesh 
saw corruption, emerge triumphant from the grave; and not 
only mount the lower firmament, but ascend the heaven of 
heavens;. taking possession of ,those sublime abodes, in our 
name, and as our forerunner t 

Ye cattle, that rest in your inclosed pastures : Ye beasts* 
that range the unlimited forest : Ye fish, that rove through 
trackless paths of the sea: Sheep, clad in garments, which, 
when left by you, are wore by kings : Kine, who feed on ver- 
dure, which, transmuted in your bodies, and strained from your 
udders, furnishes a repast for queens : Lions, roaring after 
your prey : Levudluin, taking your pastime in the great deep ; 
\s:ith all that wing the .firmament, or tread the soil, or swim 
the wave :-— He, who spreads his ever-hospitable board \ who 
admits you ali to be his continual guests ; and suffers you to 
want no manner of thing that is good :*— HE was destitute, 
afflicted, tormented : He endured all that was miserable and 
reproachful, in order to exalt a degenerate race, who had de* 
based themselves to a level with the beasts that perish, untd 
seats of distinguished and immortal honour; in. order to intro- 
duce the slaves of sin, and heirs of hell, into mansions of con- 
summate and everlasting bliss. 

Surely, the contemplation of such a subject, and the distant 
anticipation of such a hope, may almost turn earth into heav- 
en, and make even inanimate Nature vocal with praise. Let 
it then break forth from every creature. Let the meanest feel 
the inspiring impulse ; let the greatest acknowledge them- 
selves unable, worthily to express the stupendous goodness. < 

Praise HIM, ye insects thai crawl on the ground ; who, tho* 
high above all height, humbled himself to dwell in dust. Birds 

and is lately published in two octavo volumes, by Mr. Jame*.- 
Itivingtou. For which service he has my thanks : I flatter my-*, 
self, he will have the thanks of the public ; as I am persuaded, 
could religion and virtue speak, he would have their acknow- 
ledgments also. Since few treatises are more happily calculat- 
ed, to represent religion in its native beauty, and to promote 

the interests of genuine virtue. On which account, 1 trust, 

the candid will excuse me, and the judicious will not condemn 
me, even though the recommendations of those devotions, and 
of these meditations, may appear to be a digression from my 
subject. 

N. B. Should the reader be inclined to examine the afore- 
mentioned tenet, he will find it stated, discussed, and applied 
to its due improvement, in a piece entitled, Tberon and \A&* 
pa§io> written by Mr. Uervey. 



UP6N CREATION. 14 3 

m the air, waft on your wings, and warble in your notes HIS 
praise; who, though Lord of the celestial bodies, while so- 
journing on earth, wanted a shelter commodious as your nests. 
— Ye rougher world of brutes, join with the gentle songsters of 
the shade, and howl to HIM your hoarse applause; who 
breaks the jaw-bones of the infernal lion ; Who softens into 
mildness the savage disposition ; and bids the wolf lie down in 
amicable agreement with the Lamb. Bleat out, ye hills ; let 
broader lows be responsive from the vales ; ye forests catch, 
and ye rocks retain, the inarticulate hymn : Because Messi- 
ah the Prince/mis- his flock like a shepherd. He gathers the 
lambs with Ids arms ; he carries them in his bosom ; and gent- 
ly leads those that are with young.* — Wave, ye stately cedars, 
in sign of worship, wave your branching heads to HIM, who 
meekly bowed his own to the accursed tree. Pleasing pros- 
pects, scenes of beauty, where nicest Art conspires with lavish 
Nature, to form a paradise below ; lay forth all your charms, 
and in all your charms confess yourselves a mere blank, com* 
pared with his amiableness, who is " fairest among ten thou- 
sand, and altogether lovely."— Drop down, ye showers; and 
testify, as you fall ; testify of HIS grace, which descends more 
copiously than the rain, distils more sweetly than the dew. 
J^et sighing gales breathe and murmuring rivulets How ; breathe 
and flow, in harmonious consonance to him ; whose spirit is 
far more reviving than the cooling breeze*, who is himself the 
fountain of living waters. 

Ye lightnings, blaze to HIS honour ; ye thunders, sound 
HIS praise; while reverberating clouds return the roar '■; and 
bellowing oceans propagate the tremendous anthem, — Mutest 
of creatures, add your silest oratory, and display the triumphs 
of HIS meekness ; who. though he maketh the clouds hi? 
chariot, and treadeth upon thS wave^ of the sea :' though the 
thunder is his voice, and the lightning ms sword of justice.; 




a far sublimer sun. Write, in all thy ample round, with ev ~ r > T 
lucid beam— O ! write a testimony to HIM, who is ihQ bright- 
ness of his Father's glory; who is the Sun of righteousness to 
a sinful world: and is risen never to go down; is risen, *o be 
our everlasting light.— Shine clear, ye skies-; look gay, thou 
earth : let Vae floods clap their hands, and let every creature 
wear a smile : For he cometh, the Creator himself cometh 
to be manifested in the flesh ; and with "him comes pardon' 
peace and joy; every virtue, and ail felicity comes in his fram! 
—Angels and archangels let your songs be of JESUS, and 
* Isa. xl. 11. 

N 



1 46 H DESCANT 1 

teach the very heavens to echo with his adored and majestic 
name.- Ye beheld him with- greater transports of admiration, 
when you attended his agony in the garden, and saw him pros- 
trate on the ground, than when you beheld universal Nature 
rising at his call, and saw the wonders of his creating might. 
Tune to loftiest notes your golden harps, and waken raptures 
'unknown before even in heavenly breasts : while ail that has 
breath, swells the concert of harmony ; and all that has being, 
unites in the tribute of praise, 

Chiefly, let man exalt his voice; let man, with distinguished 
ha-annas, hail the Redeemer. For man he was stretched 
bit the racking cross; for man, he was consigned to the gloomy 
sepulchre; for man he procured grace unmeasurable, and bliss 
;- conceivable.- However different, therefore, in your age, or 
lore different in your circumstances, be unanimous, O men., 
in magnifying a Saviour, who is no respecter of persons, who 
gave himself a ransom for all — — Bend, ye kings, from your 
thrones of ivory and gold ; in your robes of imperial purple, 
fall prostrate at HIS het; who forsook a nobler throne, and 
i'-iid aside more illustrious ensigns of majesty, that you might 
reign with God for ever and ever. ^-Children of poverty, mean- 
est of mortals (if any can be called poor, who are thus enrich- 
ed ; if any can be accounted mean, who are thus ennobled) 
rejoice, greatly rejoice, in God our Saviour; who chose to be 
indigent, was willing to be contemned, that you might be en- 
titled to the treasures, and be numbered with the princes of 
heaven.— Sons of affliction, though harrassed with pain, and 
inured to anguish, O! change your groans into. songs of gra- 
titude. Let no complaining voice, no jarring string be heard, 
in th^ universal symphony ; but glorify the LAMB even in the 
fires ;* who himself bore greater torment, than you feel ; and 
has promised you a share in the joy which he inherits ; who has 
made your sufferings sho&f and will make your rest eternal,— 
Men of hoary locks, bending beneath a weight of years, and 
tottering on the brink of the grave ; let Christ be your sup- 
port under all infirmities ; lean upon Christ as the rock of 
your salvation. Let his name, his precious name, form, the 

Jas* accents which quiver on your pale expiring lips. -And 

iet this be the first, that lisps on your tongues, ye tender in- 
fants. Remember your Redeemer, in your earliest mo- 
ment?. Devote the choice of your hours to the learning of his 
mil, and the chief of your strength to the glorifying of his 
name ; who, in the perfection of health, and the very prime of 
manhood, was content to become a motionless and ghastly 
corpse, that you might be girt with the vigour, and clothed 
'Willi khe bloom of eternal youth. 

* Js«u xxiv. 15. 



UPON /CREATION. 147 

Ye spirit* of; ust, men made perfect, who are released fVom 
the bui'den of the iiesh ; and freed from all the vexatious jfQ&r 
citations of corruption inyourselves ; denvered from all the for 
jurious effects of' iniquity in others: who sojourn no longer in 
thejbents of strife, or the territories of disorder ; but are receiv- 
ed into that pure, harmonious, holy society, where every one 
acts up to uis amiable and exalted character ; where God him- 
zt-n is pjeased; ■. graciously and immediately to preside —You 
find, not without pleasing astonishment, your hopes improved 
into actual enjoyment,. ancl your faith superseded by thebeatiiic 
vision. ; You feel all your former shyness of behaviour, happi- 
ly lost in the overflowings of unbounded love; and all your lit- 
tle differences of opinion, entirely bore down by tides of 'inva- 
riable truth. Bless, therefore, wuh all y^ur enlarged powers 
bless feis Infinitely larger goodness; who/when be had ove- 
Come the sharpness of death, opened the gates of paradise, 
opened fhe kingdom of 'heaven to all generations, and to every 
denomination of the faithful 

Ye men of holy conversation, and humble tempers, think M 
HIM, who fovea ym, and washed you from your sins in id:< 
mvn blood, Think, of him, on your silent couch ; talk of lum, 
in every social interview. Glory in his excellencies ; make 
your boast of his obedience; and add, still continue to a;lq, 
the incense of a dutiful life, to. all the oblations of a gratefu'i 
tongue, ~-*PFcake$t of \helievzrs, wlvogo; mourning under a sen:-.e 
of guilt, and conflicting with the csaeeles^ assaults- of i^rm>t?- 
lion ; put off your sj^k-dcih, and be girded with, gladne?.sk 
Because Jje^us is as merciful to hear, as he is mighty to help. 
Because he is touched with the tenderest sympathising con- 
cern, for all your distresses ; and he lives, ever liyes > to or yo^ 
Advocate with the FATHEK. Why then should unoa £v 
doubts sadden your countenances? why shguld despvmfmg 
^ears oppress your souls? Turn, turn those. disconsolate slgh^ 
Into cheerful hymns ; since you have hispozverfu! intercession, 
and bis inestimable merits, to be your anchor in all tribulations 
to be your passport into eternal blessedness. 

~Most of all, ye ministers of the sanctuary \ herald' com- 
missioned from above ; lift, every one his voice like a trumpet, 
and loudly proclaim the Redeemer./ Get ye up, ye ambas- 
sadors of peace, get ye up into the high mountains ; and spread 
far and wide the honours of the LAMB, " that was slain, but 
is alire for evermore," Teach every sacred roof, to resound 
with his fame; and every human heart to glow with his love. 
Declare, as far as the force of words will go, declare the inex- 
haustible fuiness : of that great atonement, whose merits are 
commensurate with the glories of the Divinity,* Tea the 

% If in this plaee and others, I have spoken magnificently of 



148 A DESCANT UPON CREATION. 

.! wretch, what pity yearns in Immanuel's bowels ; what 
blood he has spilt, what agonies he has endured, what wonders 
he has wrought for the salvation of his enemies. Invite the in- 
digent, to become rich ; entreat the guilty, to accept of par- 
don", because with the crucified Jesus is plenteous redemption; 
and all-sufficiency to save. — While you, placed in conspicuous 
stations, pour the joyful sound ; may I, as 1 steal through the 
vale of humble life, catch the pleasing accents ! For me, the 
Author of all blessings became a curse ! for me, his bones were 
dislocated, and his flesh was torn : he hung with streaming 
veins and an agonizing soul, on the cross for me. O ! may 1, 
in my little sphere, and amidst the scanty circle of my ac- 
quaintance, at least whisper these glad transporting tidings ; 
whisper them from my own heart, that they may surely reach, 
and sweetly penetrate theirs. 

But, when men and angels raise the grand hymn ; when 
all worlds, and all beings, add their collective acclamations; 
this ful, fervent, and universal chorus, will be so inferior to 
the riches of the Redeemer's grace: so disproportionate to 
the magnificence of his glory, that it will seem but to debase 
the unutterable subject it attempts to exalt. The loud halle- 
lujah will die azem/, in the solemn mental eloquence of pros- 
trate, rapturous, silent adoration. 

O Goodness infinite ! Goodness immense! 

And Love that passe th knowledge /—Words are vain ; 

Language is lost in wonders "-> divine. 

Come then, expressive Silence, muse hh praise, 

the blood of Cueist, and its insuperable efficacy to expiate 

guilt; I thk,k, it is no more than is expressed, in a Yirycclt" 

' d hymn, written by one of the greatest voiu, who had also 

■n one of the greatest libertines, and afterwards commenced 
one of the most remarkable penitents in France. A hymn, which 
even Mr. Bayle confesses to be a very fine one ; which another 
great critic calls an admirable one ; and which a genius superior 
to them both, recommends as a noble one. (See Sped, vol, VII. 
No 513.) 

The author, having acknowledged, his crimes to be beyond 
measure heinous, and almost beyond forgiveness provoking ; so 
provoking, as to render tears from such eyes offensive, and 
prayers from such iips abominable j — composes himself to sub- 
mit, without the least repining sentiment : to submit, even with 
praise and adoration, to the most dreadful doom. Accordingly, 
he stands in resigned expectation of being instantly struck by 
the bolts of vengeance .- But—with a turn of thought equally 
surprising and sprightly ; with a faith properly founded and 
happily firm ; he adds, 

Yet where ! O where ! can even thy thunders fall ? 

Christ's blood o'erspreads and shields me from them all* 



MEDITATIONS 

AND 

CONTEMPLATIONS 

IN TWO VOLUMES. 

CONTAINING : 
VOL. I 

MEDITATIONS AMONG THE TOMBS ! 
REFLECTIONS ON A FLOWER-GARDEN : AND, 

A DESCANT UPON CREATION. 

VOL II 

CONTEMPLATIONS ON THE NIGHT : 
CONTEMPLATIONS ON THE STARRY HEAVENS: ANDj 

A -WINTER PIECE. 



BY JAMES HERVEY, A. "M. 
Late Rector of Westpn-Favell, North aipiifpasMr 



VOL. II. 



NEW-YORK : 

PUBLISHED BY EYERT DUYCKINC&j 
110 PEARL-STREET. 

W, W. Vermilye, Printer* 

1805. 



TO 

PAUL ORCHARD, 

OF STOCK-ABBEY, IN DEVONSHIRE, ESQ. 

DEAR SIR, 

AS your honoured father was pleased to make choice 
of me to answer in your name at the font, and to 
exercise a sort of guardianship over your spiritual in- 
terests ; permit me, by putting these little treatises in- 
to your hand, to fulfil some part of that solemn obli- 
gation. 

Gratitude for many signal favours, and a conscien- 
tious regard to my sacred engagement, have long ago 
inspired my breast with the warmest wishes both for 
your true dignity and real happiness. Nor can I think 
of a more endearing, or a more effectual way, of advanc- 
ing either the one or the other, than to set before you a 
sketch of your excellent father's character. — Illustrious 
examples are the most winning incitements to virtue. 
And Rone can come attended with such particular re- 
commendations to y®u y Sir, as the pattern ©f that wor- 
thy person, from whom you derive your very being. 

A most cordial and reverential esteem for the Di- 
vine word, was one of his remarkable qualities. Those 
oracles of Heaven were his principal delight, and his 
inseparable companions. Your gardens, your solitary 
walks, and the hedges of your fields, can witness,* with 
what an unwearied assiduity he exercised himself in 
the law of the Lord. From hence he fetched his max- 
ims of wisdom, and formed his judgment of things. 
The sacred precepts were the model of his temper, and 
the guide of his life ; while the precious promises were 
^he joy of his heart, and his portion for ever. 

Improving company was another of his most relish- 
ing pleasures. Few gentlemen were better furnished, 
either with richness of fancy, or copiousness of expres- 
sion, to bear a shining part in conversation. With 
these talents, he always endeavoured to give some use- 
ful, generally some religious, turn to the discourse. Nor 
* Josh. xxiv. IT. 



IV DEDICATION. 

did he ever reflect, v/ith greater complacency, on his 
social hours, than when they tended to glorify the 
Eternal Majesty ; and to awaken, in himself and others, 
a more lively spirit of devotion. 

To project for the good of others, was his frequent 
study ; and to curry those benevolent contrivances into 
execution, his favourite employ. When visited by the 
young persons of the neighbourhood, far from taking 
an ungraceful pride to initiate them in debauchery, or 
confirm them in a riotous habit ; it was his incessant 
aim, by finely adapted persuasives, to encourage them 
in industry, and establish them in a course of sobriety ; 
to guard them against the allurements of vice, and ani- 
mate them with the principles of piety. A noble kind 
of hospitality this ! which will probably transmit its 
beneficial influence to their earthly possessions, to their 
future families, and even to their everlasting state. 

A conviction of human indigence, and a thorough 
persuasion of the Divine All-sufficiency, induced him to 
he frequent in prayer. To prostrate himself in profound 
adoration, before that infinitely exalted Being, who 
dwells in light inaccessible, was his glory ; to implore 
the continuance of the Almighty favour, and the in- 
crease of all Christian graces, was his gain. In those 
moments, no doubt, he remembered you, Sir, with a 
particular earnestness ; and lodged many an ardent 
petition in the Court of Heaven, for his infant-son. 
Cease not to second them with your own devout sup- 
plications, that they may descend upon your head, " in 
the fulness of the blessings of the Gospel of peace." 

To give their genuine lustre to all his other endow- 
ments, he was careful to maintain an humble mind. — 
Though his friends might admire his superior abilities, 
or his acquaintance applaud his exemplary behaviour, 
he saw how far he fell short of tke mark of his high 
calling ; saw, and lamented his defects ; saw, and re- 
nounced himself; relying for final acceptance, and end- 
less felicity, on a better righteousness than his own ; 
even on the transcendently perfect righteousness, and 
inconc-ivably precious death, of Jesus the Redeemer. 
This was the rock of his hope, and the very cr^wn of 
his rejoicing. 



DEDICiA-TlONi V 

These, Sir, are some of the distinguishing charac- 
teristics of your deceased parent. As you had the A$!§f 
fortune to lose so valuable a relative, before you was 
capable of forming any acquaintance with his person ; 
I Hatter myself you will the more attentively observe 
his picture : This his moral picture ; designed not to 
be set in gold, or sparkled in enamel, but to breathe in 
your spirit, and to live in all your conduct.- — -Which, 
though it be entirely your own, calculated purely for 
yourself, may possibly (like the family-pieces in your 
parlour, that glance an eye upon as many as enter the 
room.) make some pleating and useful impression on 
every beholder*— May every one, charmed with the 
beautiful image, catch its resemblance ; and each, in 
his respective sphere, u go and do likewise/* 

But you, Sir y are peculiarly concerned to copy the 
amiable original. As the order of an indulgent Provi- 
dence has made you heir of the affluent circumstances, 
let hot a gay and thoughtless inadvertance cut you off 
from,? the richer inheritance of these noble qualifications. 
- — —/These will be your security amidst all the glitter- 
ing dangers, which are inseparable from blooming years, 
and an elevated situation in hie. These are your path, 
yotn sure pid only path; to true greatness and solid 

happiness.* ~— Tread in these step 3, and you cannot 

fail to be, *&& crafling of your friends, mm g& favourite 
of Heaven. Tread in these steps, and you will give 
inexpressible joy to, one of the best of mothers ; you 
will become an extensive blessing to your fellow-crea- 
tures ; and, which, after such most engaging motives? 
is scarce worthy to be mentioned, you will be the de- 
light, the honour, and the boast of, 

Dear Sir, 

You r ve ry affe ctionate G odf ath er, 

And most faithful humble servant, 

JAMES KEEYEY. 



West on-Favell, near 

Northampton, 
July 14, i¥%% 



\ 



PREFACE. 

i nb^e 



r £ have already exercised our speculations on the fonm;> 
and flowers ; surveying Nature, covered, with the deep- 
est horrors, and arrayed in the richest beauties. Jllegory 
taught many of the objects to speak the language of viitue ; 
while Imitation lent her colouring to give the lessons an engag- 
ing air.— And this, with a view of imitating that Divine. In- 
structor, who commissioned tfelily* in her silver suit, to ..re- 
monstrate in the ear of unbelieving, reason; who sent his dis- 
ciples (men ordained to teach the universe) to learn maximsof 
(he last importance, from the most insignificant bird*/* that 
wander through the paths of the air; from the very ?neanc$t 
herbs/" that are scattered over the face of the ground. f 



•u 



* * * Matth. vi. 26, 28, 29, 30. 
t Celebrated writers, as Demosthenes and Cicero, Thucydid^s 
and Zivy, are observed to have a style peculiar to themselves. 
--Now, whoever considers the discourses of Christ, will find 
him distinguishing himself by a style, which may properly hft 
called MIS OWN. Majestic, yet familiar; ba'ppily uniting 
dignity with condescension ; it consists in teaching his follow- 
ers the sublimest truths, by spiritualizing on the most common 
occurrences : which, besides its being level to the lowest appre- 
hensions, and admirably adapted to steal into the most matten- 
tr;t hzzst, is accompanied with this very singular advantage, 
that it turns even the sphere ef business into a school of instruction, 
and venders the meat "C^trr^ry objects a- s«t<af monitors, ever 
soliciting our regard, because ever present to our senses.— So 
that, I believe, it may be said of this amiable method in which 
our Lord conveyed, as well as of that powerful energy which 
attended his doctrines : That never man spake like this man. — 
The harvest approaching, he reminds his disciples of a far more 
important harvest, John vi. 35. Matth. xiii. 39. when immor- 
tal beings shall be reaped from the grave, and gathered in from 
all the quarters of the earth : when every human creature shall 
sustain the character of valuable wheat or despicable tares; 
and accordingly be lodged in mansions of everlasting security, 
or consigned over to the rage of unquenchable fire. In his 
charge to fishermen, when they are commencingpreachers, Matth. 
vi. 19. he exhorts them, conformably to the nature of their late 
occupation, to use the same assiduity and address, in winning 
souls, as they were wont to exercise in catching their finny prey, 
— For the farther illustration of this no less useful than curious 
subject, 1 would refer my reader to a valuable note in Sir Isaac 
Ne%vton's Observations on the Prophecies, p. 148. 4to edit. 



PRFTAGE. VU 

Emboldened .by the kind acceptance of. the preceding 
sketches, I beg leave to confide in the same benevolence of 
taste," for the protection and support of the two remaining es- 
says; which exhibit a prospect of still life, and grand opera* 
tiotiy which moralize on the most composed, and most mag- 
nificent appearances of things.- — ~*In which, Fancy is again 
suffered to introduce her imagery, but only as the handmaid 
o(Tmth, in order to dress her person, and display her charms ; 
to engage the attention, and win the love, even of the gay and 
of the fashionable. Which is more likely to be affected, by 
forming agreeable pictures of Nature, and deriving instructive 
observations, than by the laborious method of long deduced 
arguments, or close connected reasonings.— The Contempla- 
tion of the Heavens and the Earth, of their admirable proper** 
t.?es and beneficial changes, has always afforded the most ..ex- 
kftecT gratification to the human mind. In compliance with 
tfais prevailing taste, I have drawn my serious admonitions 
from the stupendous. theatre, and variegated scenery, of the 
I'joiverse.: .That the reader may learn his duty from his very 
pleasures ;— may gather wisdom, mingled with virtue, from 
tfAV'most refined entertainments, and noblest delights, 

\, , - 

""the evening, drawing her sables over the world, and. gently 
darkening into night, is a season peculiarly proper for sedate 
consideration. Alt circumstances concur to hush our passions, 
andgoothe our cares ; to tempt our steps abroad, and prompt 
our thoughts to serious reflection. 



-Then is the time* 



Far those whom Wisdom, and whom Nature charrr^ 

u o steal themselves from the degenrate crowd, 

And soar above this little scene of things; 

.A ud tread 16 w-thoughted vice beneath their feet ; 

To sooth the throbbing passions into peace ; 

And woo lone quiet in her silent walks. 

Thomson's Autumn, 1. 973. 

Tfee favour I would solicit for the first of the following com- 
positions, is, that it may be permitted to attend, in such retired 
and contemplative excursions ; to attend, if not under the cha- 
racter ..of a 'friend, at least, in the humble capacity of a servant, 
or a page:— -As a servant, to open the door of meditation, and 
remove every impediment to those best exercises of the mind; 
"which blend advantage with amusement, and improve, while 
they delight:- — As a page, to gather up the unstable fluctuating 
train of Fancy; and collect her fickle powers into a consist- 
ent, re -gular, and useful habit of thinking. 



VIII PREl^CE. 

The other, conversant among the starry regions, would ! 
the imagination through those beautiful tracts of unclouded 
azure ; and point out to the judgment some of those astonishing 
particulars, which so eminently signalize the celestial worlds. 
A prospect this, to which curiosity attracts our eyes, and to 
which scripture itself often directs our study : a prospect, be- 
yond ail others most excellent]) 7 calculated, to enlarge the soul, 
and ennoble its conceptions j— to give the grandest apprehen- 
sions of the everlasting GOD, and create sentiments of be- 
coming superiority, with relation to all transitory interests ; — > 
in a word, to furnish faith with the surest foundation for a stea- 
dy affiance, and true magnanimity of spirit; to afford piety 
the strongest motives, both for a lively gratitude, and profound 
veneration. 

While Galalceo lifts his tube, and discovers the prodigious 
magnitude of those radiant orbs ;—- while .Newton measures, 
their amazing distances, and unites the whole system in har- 
monious order, by the subtle influences of attraction —I wouh J 
only, like the herald before that illustrious Hebrew,* proclairrj, 
at every turn, t( Boiv the knee, and adore the Almighty Mi- 
ker; magnify his eternal name, and make ids 'praise, like ^11 
his works, to be glorious" 

* Gen. xli. 43. 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

ON THE 

T. 



Night is fair Virtue's immemorial friend : f 
The conscious Moon, through every distant age, 
Has held a lamp of Wisdom. 

Night Thoughts, No. V, 



THE business of the day dispatched, and the sultry heats 
abated, invited me to the recreation of a walk ; a walk 
in one of the finest recesses of the country, and in one of the 
most pleasing evenings which the Summer-season produced,* 

The limes and elms, uniting their branches over my head, 
formed a verdant canopy, and cast a most refreshing shade. 
Under my feet lay a carpet of Nature's velvet; grass inter* 
mingled with moss, and embroidered with flowers. Jessamines, 
in conjunction with woodbines, twined around the trees, dis- 
playing their artless beauties to the eye, and diffusing their de- 
licious sweets through the air* On either side, the boughs 
rounded into a set of regular arches, opened a view into the 
distant fields, and presented me with a prospect of the bending 
skies. The little birds, all joyous and grateful for the favours 
of the light, were paying their acknowledgments in & tribute 
of harmony, and soothing themselves to rest with songs. While 
a French horn, from a neighbouring seat, sent its melodious 
accents, softened by the length of their passage, to complete 
the concert of the grove* 

Roving in this agreeable manner, my thoughts were exer- 
cised on a subject still more agreeable than the season, or the 
scene. I mean, our late signal victory over the united forces 
of intestine treason, and foreign invasion : a victory, which 
pours joy through the present age, and will transmit its influ- 
ence to generations yet unborn.— Are not all the blessings which 
can endear society, or render life itself desirable, centered in 
our present happy constitution, and auspicious government ? 
W 7 ere they not all struck at, by that impious and horrid blow, 

O 



10 CONTEMPLATIONS 

mediated at Rome, levelled by France, and seconded by fac- 
tious spirits at home ? Who then can be sufficiently thankful 
for the gracious interposition of Providence, which has not 
only averted the impending ruin, but turned it, with aggra- 
vated confusion, on the authors of our troubles ? 

Methinks, every thing valuable which I possess, every thing 
charming which 1 behold, conspire to enhance this ever-memo- 
rable event. To this it is owing, that I can ramble unmolested 
along the vale of private life, and taste all the innocent satis- 
factions of a contemplative retirement.— Had Rebellion* suc- 
ceeded in her detestable designs ; instead of walking with se- 
curity and complacence in these flowery paths, I might have 
met the assassin with his dagger, or have been obliged to 
abandon my habitation, and embrace the " rock for a shelter." 
• — Farewell then, ye fragrant shades ; seats of meditation and 
calm repose! I should have been driven from your loved re- 
treats, to make Way for some barbarous, some insulting victor. 
— Farewell then, ye pleasing toils, and wholesome amusements 
of my rural hours ! I should no more have reared the tender 
flower to the sun ; no more have taught the espalier to expand 
her boughs ; nor have fetched any longer from my kitchen 
garden, the purest supplies of health. 

Had Rebellion succeeded in her detestable designs ; instead 
01 being regaled with the music of the woods, I might have 
been alarmed with the sound of the trumpet, and all the thun- 
der of war. Instead of being entertained with this beautiful 
landscape, I might have beheld our houses ransacked, and our 
villages plundered : I might have beheld our fenced cities en- 
compassed with armies, and our fruitful fields " clothed with 
desolation ;" or have been shocked with the more frightful im- 
ages of " garments rolled in blood," and of a ruffians blade 
reeking from a brother's heart. Instead of Peace, with her 
cheering olives, sheltering our abodes; instead of Justice, with 
her impartial scale, securing our goods ; Persecution had bran- 
dished her sword, and Slavery clanked her chains. 

Nor are these miseries imaginary only, or the creatures of a 
groundless panic. There are, in a neighbouring kingdom, 
who very lately experienced them in all their rigour. f And, 

* Referring to the Rebellion set on foot in the year 1745 ; — 
•which, for several months, made a very alarming progress in 
the North ; — but was happily extinguished by the glorious and 
. decisive victory at Culloden. 

| See a pamphlet, entitled, Popery ahvays the same*- Which 
contains a narrative of the persecutions and severe hardships, 
lately suffered by the Protestants, in the southern parts of 
France; and closes with a most seasonable, alarming and spirit- 
ed address to the inhabitants of Great Britain. Printed 1746. 



ON THE NIGHT. 1 1 

if the malignant spirit of Popery had forced itself into our 
church ; if an abjured Pretender had cut his way to our 
throne ; we could have no reason to expect a mitigation of their , 
severity, on our behalf, — But, supposing the tender mercies of 
a bigotted usurper to have been somewhat less cruel ; where, 
alas ! would have been the encouragement to cultivate our lit- 
tle portion ; or what pleasure could arise from an improved 
spot ; if both the one and the other lay, every moment at the 
mercy of lawless power ? This imbittering circumstance would 
spoil their relish ; and by rendering them a precarious, would 
render them a joyless acquisition. — in vain might the vine 
spread her purple clusters ; in vain be lavish of her generous 
juices ; Tyranny, like a' ravenous harpy, would be always ho- 
vering over the bowl, and ready to snatch it from the lip of in- 
dustry, or to wrest it from the hand of liberty. 

LIBERTY, that dearest of names ; and Property, that best 
of charters, give an additional, an inexpressible charm, to every 

delightful object. -See, how the declining sun has beautified 

the y Western clouds, has arrayed them in crimson, and skirted 
them with gold. Such a refinement of our domestic bliss, is 
Property; such an improvement of our public privileges, is 
Liberty. — When the lamp of day shall withdraw his beams, 
there will still remain the same collection of floating vapours; 
but O ! how changed, how gloomy ! the carnation streaks are 
faded ; the golden edgings are worn away ; and all the lovely 
tinges are lost in a leaden-coloured louring sadness. Such 
would be the aspect of all these scenes of beauty, and all these 
abodes of pleasure, exposed continually to the caprice of, arbi- 
trary sway, or held in a state of abject and cringing depen- 
dence. 

The sun has almost finished his daily race, and hastens to 
the goal. He descends lower and lower, till his chariot wheels 
seem to hover on the utmost verge of the sky. What is some- 
what remarkable, the orb of light, upon the point of setting, 
grows considerably broader. The shadows of objects, just be- 
fore they come biended in undistinguishable darkness, are ex- 
ceedingly lengthened.* — -Like blessings little prized while 
possessed ; but highly esteemed, the very instant they are pre- 
paring for their flight ; bitterly regretted when once they are 
gone, and to be seen no more, 

The radiant globe is now half immersed beneath the dusky 
earth ; or, as the ancient poets speak, is shooting into the 
ocean, and sinks in the western sea- — And could I view the 
sea at this juncture, it would yield a most amusing and curious 
spectacle. The rays, striking horizontally on the liquid ele- 

* Majoresque cadunt alt is de ?ncntibu<$ umbra, Vjrg, 



12 CONTEMPLATIONS 

merit, give it the appearance of floating glass; or reflected in 
many a different direction, form a beautiful multiplicity of co- 
lours. A stranger, as he walks along the sandy beach, and 
lost in pensive attention, listens to the murmurings of the rest- 
less flood, is agreeably alarmed by the gay decorations of the 
surface. With entertainment and with wonder, he sees the 
curling waves, here glittering with white, there glowing with 
purple ; in one place, wearing an azure tincture ; in another 
glancing a cast of undulating green ; in the whole, exhibiting 
a piece of fluid scenery, that may vie with yonder pensile ta- 
pestries, though wrought in the loom, and tinged with the 
dyes of heaven. * 

While I am transported by fancy to the shores of the ocean, 
the great luminary is sunk beneath the horizon, and totally dis- 
appears. The whole face of the ground is overspread with 
shades ; or, with what one of the finest painters of nature calls, 
a dun obscurity. Only a few very superior eminences are tipt 
with streaming silver. The tops of groves, and lofty towers, 
catch the last smiles of day;* are still irradiated by the de- 
parting beams. — But, O ! how transient is the distinction ! how 
momentary the gift! Like all the blessings, which mortals en- 
joy below, it is gone, almost as soon as granted. See ! how 
Janguishingly it trembles on the leafy spire ; and glimmers, 
with a dying faintness, on the mountain's brow. The little vi- 
vacity that remains, decays every moment. It can no longer 
hold its station. While I speak it expires ; and resigns the 
world to the gradual approaches of night. 

— Now Txvilight grey 

Has in her sober liv'ry all thing? clad.f 

Every object a little while ago, glared with light; but now 
all appears under a more qualified lustre. The animals harmo- 
nize with the insensible creation; and what was gay in those, 
as well as glittering in this, gives place to an universal gravity. 
In the meadows, all was jocund and sportive; but now the 
gamesome iambs are grown weary of their frolics, and the tired 
shepherd has imposed silence on his pipe. In the branches, 
all was sprightliness and song: but now the lively green is wrapt 
in the descending glooms ; and no tuneful airs heard, only the 
plantive stock-dove, cooing mournfully through the grove. — 
Should I now be vain and trifling, the heavens and the earth 
would rebuke my unseasonable levity. Therefore, be these 

* See this remarkable appearance delicately described, and 
wrought into a comparison, which, in my opinion, is one of the 
most just, beautiful, and noble pieces of imagery, to be found 
in modern poetry. Night Thoughts, No. II. p. 42. 4to edit, 
f Milton's Par. Lost, b. IV. 1. 598. 



ON THE NIGHT. 13 

moments devoted to thoughts sedate as the closing day, solemn 
as the face of things. And, indeed, however my social hours 
are enlivened with innocent pleasantry, let every evening, in 
her sable habit, toll the bell to serious consideration. Nothing 
can be more proper for a person who walks on the borders of 
eternity, and is hasting continually to his final audit ; nothing 
more proper, than daily to slip away from the circle of amuse- 
ments, and frequently to relinquish the hurry of business, in 
order to consider and adjust " things that belong to his peace.'' 

Since the sun is departed, from whence can it proceed, that 
I am not involved in pitchy darkness ■> Whence these remain- 
ders of diminished brightness ? which, though scarcely form- 
ing a refulgence, soften and sooth the horrors of night. I see 
not the shining ruler, yet am charmed with a real, though faint 
communication of his splendor. — Does he remember us, in his 
progress through other climes? Does he send a detachment of 
his rays to escort us during his personal absence; or to cover 
(if I may use the military term) our retreat from the scene of 
action? Has he bequeathed us a dividend of his beams, suffi- 
cient to render our circumstances easy, and our situation agree- 
able ? till sleep pours its soft oppression on the organs of sense ; 
till sleep suspends all the operations of our hands, and entirely 
supercedes any farther occasion for the light. 

No: It is ill-judged and unreasonable, to ascribe this bene- 
ficent conduct to the sun. Not unto him, not unto him ; but 
unto his Almighty Maker, we are obliged, for this pleasing 
attendant, this valuable legacy. The gracious Author of our 
being has so disposed the collection of circumambient air, as 
to make it productive of this line and wonderful effect. The 
sun-beams, falling on the higher parts of the aerial fluid, in- 
stead of passing on in straight lines, are bent inwards, and 
conducted to our sight. Their natural course is over-ruled, 
and they are bidden to w T heel about, on purpose to favour us 
with a welcome and salutary visit. — By which means, the 
blessing of lights, and the season of business, are considerably 
prolonged ; and, what is a very endearing circumstance, pro- 
longed most considerably, when the vehement heats of Sum- 
mer incline i\\e student to postpone his walk, till the temperate 
evening prevails ; when the important labours of the harvest^ 
call the husbandman abroad, Jbefore the day is fully risen. 

After all the ardours of the sultry day, how reviving is this 
coolness /—-This gives new verdure to the fading plants, new 
vivacity to the withering flowers, and a more exquisite fragrance 
to their mingled scents.— -By this, the air also receives a new 
force, and is qualified to exert itself with greater activity : qua- 
lified to brace our limbs ; to heave our lungs ; and co-operate 
O 2 



14. CONTEMPLATIONS 

with a brisker impulse, in perpetuating the circulation of our 
blood. — This I might call the grand alembic of Nature ; which 
distils her most sovereign cordial, the refreshing ctetu?. Inces- 
sant heat would rob us of their beneficial agency ; and oblige 
them to evaporate, in imperceptible exhalations. Turbulent 
winds, or even the gentler motions of Aurora's fan, would 
dissipate the rising vapours, and not suffer them to form a coa- . 
lition. But, favoured by the stillness, and condensed by the 
coolness of the night, they unite in pearly drops, and create 
that finely-tempered humidity, which cheers the vegetab'e 
world, as sleep exhilarates the animal. 

Not unlike to these are the advantages of solitude. The 
world is a troubled ocean ; and who can erect stable purposes 
on its fluctuating waves ? The world is a school of wrong ; and 
who does not feel himseif warping, to its pernicious influences ?* 
On this sea of glass,f how insensibly we slide from our own 
sted fastness ! Some sacred truth, which was struck in lively 
characters on our souls, is obscured, if not obliterated. Some 
worthy resolution, which heaven had wrought in our breasts, 
is shaken, if not overthrown. Some enticing vanity, which 
we had solemnly renounced, again practises its wiies, and again 
captivates our affections. How often has an unweary glance 
kindled a fever of irregular desire in our hearts? How often 
has a word of applause dropt luscious poison into our ears ; or 
some disrespectful expression raised a gust of passions in our 
bosoms: Our innocence is of so tender a constitution, that it 
suffers m the promiscuous croud. Our purity is of so delicate 
a complexion, that it scarce touches upon the world without 
contracting a stain. We see, we hear, with peril. 

But here Safety dwells. Every meddling and intrusive avo- 
cation is secluded. Silence holds the door against the strife of 
tongues, and all the impertinances of idle conversation. The 
busy swarm of vain images and cajoling temptations ; which 
beset us with a buzzing importunity, amidst the gaieties of life ; 
are chased by these thickening shades. — Here i may, without 
disturbance, commune with my own heart ; and learn that best 
of sciences, to know myself. Here the soul may* rally her dis- 
sipated powers, and grace recover its native energy. — This is 
the opportunity to rectify every evil impression ; to expel the 
poison, and guard against the contagion, of corrupting exam- 
ples. This is the place where I may with advantage apply 
myself to subdue the rebel ivithin ; and be master, not of a 
sceptre, but of myself. — Throng then, ye ambitious, the levees 

* Nunquam a turba mores, quos extuli, refero. Aliquid, ex eo 
quod composui, turhatur : aliquid, ex his qui€ fugavi , radit. lni~ 
mica est mult ox em conversatio. Sejskc. 

f Rev. xv. 2. 



ON THE NIGHT. IS 

of the powerful ; I will he punctual in ray assignations with so- 
litude. To a mind intent upon its own improvement, soli- 
tude has charms incomparably more engaging than the enter- 
tainments presented in the theatre, or the honours conferred 
in the drawing-room. 

I said, solitude — Am I then alone ? — -'Tis true, my acquain- 
tance are at a distance. 1 have stole away from company, and 
am remote from all human observation. — But that is an alarm- 
ing thought, 

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, 
Unseen, both when we wake and when, we sleep.* 

Perhaps there may be numbers of those invisible things pa- 
trolling this same retreat: and joining with me, in contempla- 
ting the Creator's works. Perhaps those ministering spirits, 
who rejoice at the conversion of a sinner, and hold up the go- 
ings of the righteous, may follow 7 us to the lonely recess ; and, 
even in our most solitary moments, be our constant attendants. 
- — What a pleasing awe is awakened by such a reflection ! How 
venerable it renders my retired walks ! I am struck with rever- 
ence, as under the roof of some sacred edifice, or in the pre- 
sence chamber of some mighty monarch. — -O ! may I never 
bring any pride of imagination, nor indulge theleast dissolute 
affection, where such refined and exalted intelligences exercise 
their watch ! 

'Tis possible that I am encompassed with such a cloud of 
witnesses; but it is certain, that God, the infinite eternal 
God, is now and ever with me. The great Jehovah, before 
whom all the angelic armies bow their heads, and veil their 
faces, surrounds me ; supports me ; pervades me. " In Him 

I live, move, and have my being." The whole world is his 

august temple : and, in the most sequestered corner, I appear 
before his adorable majesty, no less than when t worship in his 
house, or kneel at his altar. In every place, therefore, let me 
pay him the homage of a heart, cleansed from idols, and devo- 
ted to his service. In every circumstance let me feel no ambi- 
tion, but to please him ; nor covet any happiness, but to en-* 
joy him. 

How sublime is the description, and how striking the senti- 
ments, in that noble passage of the psalms ! Whither shall I 
go from tlaj Spirit, or ivhither shall I flee from thy presence ? 
If 1 climb up into the heights of heaven, thou art there enthron- 
ed in light. If I go down to the depths of the grave, thou art 
there also, in thy pavilion of darkness. If I retire to the re- 
motes? Eastern climes, where the morning first takes wing : If, 
swifter than the darting ray, / pass to the opposite regions of 

* Milton's Far. Lost, b, IV. 1. 677. 



16 CONTEMPLATIONS 

the West, and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea :* 
Shall I, in that distant situation, be beyond thy reach ; or, by 
this sudden transition, escape thy notice ? So far from it, that 
could I, with one glance of thought, transport myself beyond 
all the bounds of creation, I should still be encircled with the 
immensity of thy essence ; or rather, still be enclosed in the 
hollow of thy hand. — Awful, yet delightful truth ! Let it be 
interwoven with every thought ! and become one with the 
very consciousness of my existence ! that 1 may continually 
walk with GOD ; and conduct myself, in every step of my be- 
haviour, "as seeing HIM that is invisible" 

They are the happy persons ; felicity, true felicity, is all 
their own ; who live under an habitual sense of God's Omni- 
presence, and a sweet persuasion of his special love. If dan-! 
gers threaten, their impregnable defence is at hand. Nothing 
can be so near to terrify, as their Almighty Guardian to secure 
them — To these the hours can never be tedious ; and it is im- 
possible for them to be alone. Do they step aside from the 
occupations of animal life ? A more exalted set of employ- 
ments engage their attention. They address themselves in all 
the various acts of devotion, to their heavenly Father ; who 
now sees in secret, and xvill hereafter reward them openly. 
They spread all their wants before his indulgent eye, and dis- 
burden all their sorrows into his compassionate bosom. Do 
they withdraw from human society ? They find themselves un- 
der the more immediate regards of their Maker. If they re- 
sign the satisfactions of social intercourse, it is to cultivate a 
correspondence with the condescending Deity, and taste the 
pleasure of divine friendship. — What is such a state but the 
very suburbs of heaven? what is such a conduct, but an ante- 
past of eternal blessedness ? 

Now, my soul, the day is ended. The hours are all iled. 
They are fled to the Supreme Judge, and have given in their 
evidence ; an evidence registered in heaven ! and to be produ- 
ced at the great audit.— — Happy they whose improvement has 
kept pace with the fleeting minutes ; who have seized the im- 
portant fugitives, and engaged them in the pursuit of wisdom, 
or devoted them to the service of virtue. 

Fugitives indeed they are. Our moments slip away silently 
and insensibly. The thief steals not more unperceived from 
the pillaged house. And will the runnagates never stop ? 

* Psalm cxxxix. 7 f 8, 9. There is, I think, an additional 
strength and beauty in the thought, if, with the learned Mr. 
JMudge, we suppose an antithesis between the two clauses of 
the last verse, as there evidently is between those of the pre- 
ceding ; and that they express, in a poetical style, the extremi- 
ties of the East and the West. 



ON THE NIGHT. 17 

Nor wherever we are, however employed, time pursues his 
incessant course. Though we are listless and dilatory ; the 
Great Measurer of our days presses on ; still presses on, in his 
unwearied career;* and whirls our weeks, and months, and 
years away.— Is it not then surprisingly strange, to hear peo- 
ple complain of the tediousness of their time, and how heavy 
it hangs upon their hands ! to see them contrive a variety of 
amusing artifices, to accelerate its flight, and get rid of its bur- 
den ? Ah ! thoughtless mortals ! Why need you urge the head- 
long torrent ! Your days are swifter than a post; which, car- 
rying dispatches of the last importance, with unremitted speed 
scours the road. They pass away like the nimble ships ; which 
have. the wind in their wings, and skim along the w 7 atry plain. 
They hasten to their destined period, with the rapidity of an 
eagle ; which leaves the stormy blast behind her, while she 
cleaves the air, and darts upon her prey.f 

Now the day is gone, how short it appears ! When my fond 
eye beheld it in perspective, it seemed a very considerable 
space. Minutes crouded upon minutes, and hours raHged be- 
hind hours, exhibited an extensive draught, and flattered me 
with a long progression of pleasure. But, upon a retrospective 
view, how wonderfully is the scene altered ! The landscape, 
large and spacious, which a warm fancy drew, brought to the 
test of cool experience, shrinks into a span. Just as the shores 
vanish, and mountains dwindle to a spot, when the tailor, 
surrounded by skies and ocean, throws his last look on his na- 
tive land. How clearly do I now discover the cheat ! May 

it never impose upon my unwary imagination again \ I find, 
there is nothing abiding on this side Eternity. A long dura- 
tion, in a state of finite existence, is mere illusion. 

Perhaps, the healthy and the gay, may not readily credit the 
serious truth ; especially from a young pen, and new to its em- 
ploy. Let us then refer ourselves to the decision of the ancient. 
Ask some venerable old person, who is just marching off the 
mortal stage, How many have been the days of the years of thy 
life ?l It was a monarch's question, and therefore can want 

* Sedjugit, interea, fugit irreparabile tempus. 
t yob ix. 25, 26. By these three very expressive images, the 
inspired poet represents the unpermitted and rapidfiight of time. 
The passage is illustrated with great judgment, and equal deli- 
cacy, in Dr. Grey's most ingenious abridgment of Scbultens. — 
Shice tribus in dementis velocissiam, hie admirabili cum emphasi con- 
geruntur. In terris, nilpernicius, cur sore, et quidem Iceti quidferente* 
Rapidius tamen adhuc undas, non secant, sed supercool ant, navigiola 
papyro contexta. Omnium rapidissime aeremgrandibus alls permit* 
titur aquila, prcecipiti lapsu ruens in prcedum. 
% Gen. xlyiL 8. Heb, £>ih 



1 8 CONTEMPLATIONS 

no. recommendation to the fashionable world. — Observe, how 
he shakes his hoary locks, and from a deep-felt conviction re- 
plies ; "Fourscore years have finished their round, to furrow 
these cheeks, and clothe this head in snow. Such a term may 
seem long and large to inconsiderate youth. But, O ! how 
short, how scanty, to one that has made the experiment ! Short 
as a gleam of transient sunshine ; scanty, as the shadow that 
departeth. Methinks, it was but yesterday that I exchanged 
my childish sports, for manly exercises ; and now I am resign- 
ing them both, for the sieep of death. As soon as we are born 
we begin to draw to our end ; and how small is the interval be- 
tween the cradle and the tomb !" O ! may we believe this 

testimony of mature age! may every evening bring it, with 
clearer evidence to our minds ! and may we form such an esti- 
niateof the little pittance, while it is upon the advancing hand, 
as we shall -certainly make, when ihe sands are all run down ! 
Let me add one reflection on the work to be done, while 
this shuttle is flying through the loom.* A work of no small 
difficulty, yet of the utmost consequence ! — Hast thou not seen, 
hast thou not known, the excellent of the earth, who were liv- 
ing images of their Maker ? His divine likeness was transfused 
into their hearts, and beamed forth in all their conducts ; beam- 
ed forth in meekness of wisdom, and purity of affection ; in all 
the tender offices of love, and all the noble efforts of zeal. To 
be stamped with the same beautiful signature, and to be fol- 
lowers of them, as they were of Christ ; this, this is thy busi- 
ness. On the accomplishment of this, thy eternal ail depends. 
And will an affair of such unspeakable weight admit of a mo* 
menfs delay, or consist with the least remissness ? — especially, 
since much of my appointed time is already elapsed ; and the 
remainder is all uncertainty, save only that it is in the very act 
to fly. — Or suppose thou hadst made a covenant with the 
grave, and wast assured of reaching the age of Methuselah ; 
how soon would even such a lease expire? — Extend it, if you 
please, still farther, and let it be co-existent with Nature itself. 
How inconsiderable is the addition ! For yet a very little while, 
and the commissioned Archangel lifts up his hand to heaven, 
and swears by the Almighty Name, That time shall be no lon- 
ger.f Then abused opportunities will never return ; and new 

* My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle. Job vii. 6. 

t This alludes to the beginning of Revelations the xth; which, 
if abstracted from its spiritual meaning, and considered only as 
a stately piece of machinery, well deserves our attention ; and, 
I will venture to say, has not its superior, perhaps not its equal, 
in any of the most celebrated masters of Greece and Rome.— - 
All that is gloomy or beautiful in the atmosphere, all that is 
striking or magnificent in every element, is taken to heighten 



ON THE NIGHT. 19 

Opportunities will never more be offered. Then, should neg- 
ligent mortals wish — wish ever so passionately — for a few 
hours— a few moments only-— to be thrown back from the 
opening Eternity, thousands of worlds would not be able to 
procure the grant. 

Shall f now be industrious to shorten what is no longer than 
a span, or to quicken the pace of what is ever on the wing ? 
Shall I squander away what is unutterably important while it 
lasts; and when once departed, is altogether irrevocable ? O '1 
ray soul, forbear the folly ; forbear the desperate extravagance. 
Wilt thou chVde as a loiterer, the arrow that boundeth from the 
string ; or sweep away diamonds, as the refuse of thy house? — 
Throw time away. Astonishing, ruinous, irreparable profuse- 
ness i— Throw empires away, and be blameless ; But, O ! be 
parsimonious of thy days ; husband thy precious hours. They 

the idea. Yet nothing is disproportionate ; hut an uniform air 
of ineffectual majesty greatens, exalts, ennobles the whole.— - 
Be pleased to observe the aspect of this august personage. All 
the brightness of the sun shines in his countenance ; and all the 
rage of the fire burns in his feet. See his apparel. The clouds 
compose his robe, and the drapery of the sky floats upon 
his shoulders. The rainbow T forms his diadem; and that 
which." compasseth the heavens with a glorious circle,*' is the 
ornament of his head.— ^-Behold his attitude. One foot stands 
on the ocean, the other rests on the land. The wide extended 
earth, and the world of waters, stand as pedistals for these 
mighty columns. — Consider the action. His hand is lifted up to 
the height of the stars. He speaks, and the regions of the fir- 
mament echo with the mighty accents, as the midnight desart 
resounds with the lion's roar. The artillery of the skies is dis- 
charged at the signal ; a peal of sevenfold thunders spreads the 
alarm, and prepares the universe to receive his orders, — To finish 
all, and give the highest grandeur, as well as utmost solemnity, 
to the representation, hear the decree that issues from his mouth. 
He swears by HIM that livetb for ever and ever. In whatever 
manner so majestic a person had expressed himself, he would 
not fail of commanding universal attention. But when he con- 
firms his speech by a most sacred and inviolable oath, we are 
not only wrapt in silent suspense, but overwhelmed with the 
profoundest a-we. — He swears, 7'bat time shall be no longer. Was 
ever vnce so full of terror ; so big with wonder ? It proclaims, 
not the fall of empires, but the final period of things It strikes 
oft the wheels of nature ; bids ages and generations cease to 
roll ; and, with one potent word, consigns a whole world over 
to dissolution. — — This is one among a multitude of v^ry sub- 
lime and masterly strokes to be found in that t©o much neglected 
book— —the Bible. 



20 CONTEMPLATIONS 

go connected, indissolubly connected with heaven or hell.* 
Improved, they are a sure pledge of everlasting glory : wasted, 
they are a sad preface of never ending confusion and anguish. 

What a profound silence has composed the world ! So pro- 
found is the silence, that my very breath seems a noise ; the 
ticking of my watch is distinctly heard ; if I do but stir, it 
creates a disturbance.— There is now none of that confused din 
from the tumultuous city ; no voice of jovial rustics from the 
neighbouring meadow ; no chirping melody from the shady 
thicket. — Every lip is sealed. Not the least whisper invades 
the air ; nor the least motion rustles amongst the boughs: Echo 
herself sleeps unmolested. The expanded ear, though all at* 
tention, catches no sound but the liquid lapse of a distant mux- 
muring stream. 

All things are hush'd, as Nature's self lay dead. 

If in the midst of this deep and universal composure, ten 
thousand bellowing thunders should burst over my head, and 
rend the skies with their united volleys ; how should I bear so 
unexpected a shock f It would stun my senses, and confound 
my thoughts. I should shudder in every limb, perhaps sink 
to the earth with terror,— —Consider then, O mortals ! consi- 
der the much more prodigious and amazing call, which will 
ere long alarm your sleeping bones. When the tenants of the 
tomb have slumbered in the most undisturbed repose, for a 
multitude of ages ; what an inconceivable consternation must 
the shout of the Archangel and the trwnp of God occasion ! 
Will it not wound the ear of the ungodly ; and affright, even 
to distraction, the impenitent sinner ? The stupendous peal 
will sound through the vast of heaven ; will shake the founda- 
tions of nature ; and pierce even the deepest recesses of the 
grave. And how — O ! how will the prisoners of divine jus- 
tice be able to endure that tremendous summons to a far more 
tremendous tribunal ?— Do thou, my soul, listen to the still 
voice of the gospel. Attend, in this thy day, to the gracious 
invitations of thy Saviour. Then shall that great midnight 

* I remember to have seen upon a sun-dial in a physician's 
garden at Northampton, the following inscription ; which, I 
think, is the most proper motto for the instrument that measures 
out time, and the most striking admonition that can possibly be 
presented to every eye. 

AB HOC MOMfiNTO PENDBt iETERNIf AS. 

The weighty sense of which t I know not how to express in En- 
glish more happily than in those words of Dr. Watts. 

Good God ! on what a slender thread 
(Or, on what a moment of time) 

Hang everlasting things ! 



ON THE NIGHT. 21 

cry loose its horror, and be music in thy ears. It shall be 
welcome to thy reviving clay, as the tidings of liberty to the 
dungeon captive ; as the year of jubilee to the harassed slave. 
This, this shall be its charming import ; Awake and sing ye 
that dwell in dust. * 

What a genera] cessation of affairs has this dusky hourintro~ 
duced ! a little while ago, all was hurry, hurry. Life and ac" 
tivity exerted themselves in a thousand busy forms. The city 
swarmed with passing and repassing multitudes. All the 
country was sweat and dust. The air floated in perpetual agi- 
tation, by the flitting birds, and humming bees. Art sat pry- 
ing with her piercing eyes ; while Industry plied her restless 
hands.- — But see how all this fervent and perpetual bustle is 
iled with the setting sun. The beasts are slunk on their grassy 
couch : and the winged people are retired to their downy nests* 
The hammer has resigned its sounding task, and the file ceases 
to repeat its flying touches. Shut is the well-frequented shop, 
and its threshhold no longer worn by the feet of numerous cus- 
tomers. The village swain lies drowned in slumbers ; and even 
his trusty dog, who for a considerable time stood centry at the 

door, is extended at his ease, and snoars with his master. In 

every place Toil reclines her head, and Application folds her 
arms. All interests seem to be forgot : ail pursuits are with 
those flattering myriads, which lately sported in the sun's de* 
parting rays.^—'Tis like the Sabbath of universal nature ; or as 
though the pulse of life stood still. 

Thus will it be with our infinitely momentous concerns, 
when once the shadows of the eve jiing (that long evening which 
follows the footsteps of death !) are stretched over as. The 
dead cannot seek unto God; the living, the living alone, are 
possessed of this inestimable opportunity.f " There is no 
work or devise, no repentance or amendment in the graved 

* Isaiah xxvi. 19. 
f Behold ! now is the accepted time. Behold ! now is the 
day of salvation, 2. Cor. vi. 2. 

Haste, haste, he lies in wait, he's at the door, 
Insidious death ! shou'd his strong hand arrest, 
No composition sets the pris'ner free. 
\ They who have gone down to the grave, are represented 
flsa. xxxviii. 11.) by the phrase, Those that inhabit the land of 
intermission or cessation- — Which prevents all appearance of tau- 
toligy in the sentence ; and is, 1 think, a valuable improvement 
of the translation ; as it conveys an idea, not only distinct from 
the preceding, but of a very poetical and very afflicting nature ; 
such as was perfectly aat urai for the royal finger, and royal suf- 
ferer to dwell upon, in his desponding moments. — Thus inter- 
preted, the sense will run : " I shall see man no more; I shall be 

p 



22 CONTEMPLATIONS 

whither we art all hastening." When once that closing seem 
is advanced, we shall have no other part to act on this earthly 
theatre. Then the sluggard, who has slumbered away life in 
a criminal inactivity, must lie down in hopeless distress, and 
everlasting sorrow. Then that awful doom will take place, 
*' He that is holy let him be holy still ; and he that is filthy, 
let him be filthy for ever." 

Is it so my soul? is this the only, only time allotted for ob- 
taining the great reward, and making thy salvation sure? And 
art thou lulled in a vain security, or dreaming in a supine inad- 
vertency? Start, O ! start from thy trance. Gird up the loins 
of thy mind, and work while it is day. — Improve the present 
seed-time, that Eternity may yield a joyful harvest. — We es- 
pecially, who are watchmen in Israel, and ministers of the 
glorious gospel : may we be awakened, by this consideration, 
to all assiduity in our holy office. Some or other of ourpeo- 
pie are ever and anon departing into the invisible state ; all 
our friends are making incessant approaches to their long 
home ; and zve ourselves shall very shortly be transmitted to 
the confinement of the tomb. This is the favourable juncture, 
wherein alone we can contribute to their endless welfare. This 
is the crisis, the all important crisis, of their final felicity. In- 
stantly, therefore, let us pour in our wholesome instructions ; 
instantly let us ply them with our earnest exhortations. A 
moment's delay may be- an irreparable loss ; may be irretrieva- 
ble ruin. While we procrastinate, a fatal stroke may inters 
vene, and place us beyond the power of administering, or place 
them beyond all possibility of receiving any spiritual good.* 

How frequently is the face of Nature changed ! and, by 
changing, made more agreeable ! The long continued glit- 

cut off from the cheerful ways of men, and all the sweets of 
human society. And, what is a farther aggravation to the 
threatened stroke, I shall, by its taking place, be numbered with 
those that inherit the land of cessation and inactivity ; where there 
will be no more possibility of contributing to the happiness of 
my kingdom, no more opportunity of advancing my Creator's 
glory, or of making my own final salvation sure."— A senti- 
ment like this, is grand, important, and full of benevolence ; 
removes all suspicion of unbecoming pusillanimity, and does the 
highest honour to the monarch's character. 

* The case represented by the prophet (1 Kings xx. 40.) seems 
perfectly applicable on this occasion. As thy servant was busy 
here arid there,, he was gone. So, while we are either remiss in 
our function, or laying ourselves out upon inferior cares, the 
people of our charge maybe gone ; — gone beyond the influence 
of our counsels, beyond the reach of our prayers ;— - gone into 
the unchangeable and eternal state. 



ON THE NIGHT. 23 

t.er.oftheday, renders the soothing shades of the evening dou- 
bly welcome. Nor does the morn ever purple the East with 
so engaging a lustre, as after the gloom of a dark and dismal 
night. — At present a calm of tranquility is spread through the 
Universe. The weary winds have forgot to blow. The gentle 
gales have fanned themselves to sleep. _ Not so much as a sin- 
gle leaf nods. Even the. quivering aspin rests. And not one 

breath curls o'er the stream. Sometimes, on the contrary, 

the tempest summons all the forces of the air ; and pours it- 
self, with resistless fury from the angry North. The whole 
atmosphere is tossed into tumultuous confusion, and the wairy 
world is heaved to the clouds. The astonished mariner, and 
his straining vessel, now scale the roiling mountain, and hang 
dreadfully visible on the broken surge ; now shoot, with head- 
long impetuosity, into the yawning gulf ; and neither hulk, 
nor mast is seen. The storm sweeps over the continent ; raves 
along the city-streets, struggles through the forest-boughs, and 
terrifies the savage nations with a howl, more wildly horrid 
than their own. The knotty oaks bend before the blast ; their 
iron trunks groan : and their stubborn limbs are dashed to the 
ground. The lofty dome rocks; and even the solid tower 
totters on its basis, 

Such variations are kindly contrived, and with an evident 
condescension to the fickleness of our taste. Because a perpet- 
ual repetition of the same objects would create satiety and dis- 
gust, thsrefore the indulgent Father of our race has diversifel 
the universal scene, and bid every appearance bring with it 
the charm of novelty. — This circumstance is beneficial, as well 
as entertaining. Providence, ever gracious to mortals, ever 
intent upon promoting our felicity, has taken care to mingle, in 
the constitution of things, what is pleasing to our imagination, 
with what is serviceable to our interests. The piercing winds, 
and rugged aspect of Winter, render the balmy gales, and flow- 
ery scenes of Spring, peculiarly delightful. At the same time, 
the keen frosts mellow the soil, and prepare it for the hand of 
industry. The rushing rains impregnate the glebe, and fit it 
to become a magazine of plenty. The earth is a great taborfo 
tory ; and Decembers cold collects the gross materials, which 
are sublimated by the refining warmth of May. The air is a 
pure elastic fluid ; and were it always to remain in this motion- 
less serenity, it would lose much of its active spring; was it 
never agitated by those wholesome concussions, it would con- 
tract a noisome, perhaps a pestilential taint. In which case^ 
our respiration, instead of purifying, would corrupt the vital 
juices; instead of supplying us with refreshment, would be a 
source of diseases ; on every gasp we draw, might be una\okl 



24 CONTEMPLATIONS 

able death.* — How then should we admire, how should we 
adore, that happy union of benignity and w r isdom ; which, 
from & variety of dispensations, produces an uniformity of 
good? Produces a perpetual succession of delights, and an un- 
interrupted series of advantages. 

The darkness \s now at its height ; and I cannot but admire 
the obliging manner of it* taking place. It comes not with a 
felunt and abrupt incivility, out makes gentle and respectful ad- 
vances. A precipitate transition, from the splendors of day, 
to all the horrors of midnight, would be inconvenient and 
frightful. It would bewilder the traveller in his journey ; it 
would strike the creation with amazement ; and, perhaps, be 
pernicious to the organs of sight. Therefore the gloom rushes 
not upon us instantaneously, but increases by slow degrees ; 
and, sending tiviiigkt before as its harbinger, decently adver- 
tises us of its approach. By this means, we are neither alarm- 
ed, nor incommoded by the change ;, but are able to make ait 
suitable and tir >ly measures, for its reception. — Thus graci- 
ously has providence regulated, not only the grand vicissitudes 
of the seasons, but also the common inter changes of light and 
darkness, with an apparent reference to our comfort. 

Now the fierce inhabitants of the forest forsake their dens. 
A thousand grim forms, a thousand growling monsters, pace 
the desart. Death is in their jaws, while stung with hunger, 
and a thirst for blood, they roam their nightly rounds. Un- 
fortunate the traveller, who is overtaken by the night, in these 
dismal wihH Haw must he stand aghast, at the mingled yell 
of ravenous throat;, and lions roaring after their prey. Bts&std 
him, propitious Heaven ! or else he must see his endearing 
spouse, and hail his native home, no more! — Nowtheprowl- 

* Considering the immense quantity of coals and other com- 
bustible materials which are daily consumed, and evaporated in- 
to the air ; considering the numberless streams, and clouds of 
smoke, which almost continually overwhelm populous cities ; 
the noisome exhalations which arise from thronged infirmaries 
and loathsome jails, from stagnating lakes and putrid fens ; — 
the variety of offensive and unwholesome effluvia which pro- 
ceed from other causes ; it is a very remarkable instance of a 
Providence, at once tenderly kind, and infinitely powerful, that 
mankind is not suffocated with stench ; that the air is not cloth- 
ed with filth. — The air is fhe common sewer, into which ten thou- 
sand times ten thousand nuisances are incessantly discharged ; 
^et it is preserved so thoroughly clear , as to afford the most trans- 
parent medium for vision ; so delicately widulatory, as to trans- 
mit, with all imaginable distinctness, every diversity of sound : 
so perfectly pure y as to be the constant refiner of the fluids, in 
every animal that breathes. 



t)N The Night. 25 

ing Wolf, lilce a. murderous ruffian, dogs the shepherd's foot- 
steps, and besets his bleating charge. The fox* like a crafty 
felon, steals to the thatched cottage, and carries off the fea- 
thered booty. 

Happy for the world, were these the only destroyers that 
walk in darkness. But, alas ! there are savages in human 
shape, who, mwffled in shades infest the abodes of civilized 
life. The sons of violence make choice of this season,* to 
perpetrate: the most outrageous acts of wrong and robbery. 
The adulterer* waiteth for the twilight ; and, baser than the 
villain on the highway, .betrays the honour of his bosom-friend. 
Now Faction forms her close cabals, and whispers her traitor- 
ous insinuations. Now Rebellion plans her accursed plots, and 
prepares the train to blow a nation into ruin. Now crimes, 
which hide their odious heads in the day, haunt the seats of 
society, and stalk through the gloom with audacious front 
Now the vermine of the stews crawl from '\$e\r ktrking^hole, 
to wallow in sin, and spread contagion through the night ; 
each soothing himself with the fond notion, that ail is safe; 
that no eye sees. 

Are they then concealed ? Preposterous madmen ! to draw 
the curtain between their infamous practices, and a little set of 
mortals ; but lay them open to all these chaste and wakeful 
eyes of Heaven !f as though the moon and stars were made, 
to light men to their revels, and not to God. — Are they then 
concealed? No, truly.. Was every one of these vigilant lumi- 
naries closed ; an eye keener than the lightning's flash, an eye 
brighter than ten thousand suns, beholds their very motion* 
Their thickest shades are beaming day,t to the Jealous In- 
spector, and Supreme Judge of human actions. — Deluded crea- 
tures ! have you not heard, have ye not read, " that clouds 
and darkness are His majestic residence ?"§ In that very gloom, 
to which you fly for covert, he erects his throne. What you 
reckon your screen, is the bar of his tribunal. O ! remember 
this ! Stand in awe, and sin not. Remember that the great 
and terrible God is about your path, when you take your 



-When Night 



Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 

Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. Milt, 

t Sed luna videt, sed sidera testes 

Intendunt oculos. 
J: This is finely and very forcibly expressed by the Psalmist. 
If I say, Per adventure the darkness shall cover me ; then shall my 
night be turned into day : Or, as it may be rendered somewhat 
more emphatically, Even the night shall be broad day-light all 
around me, Psalm exxxix. 10. 

§ Psalm xcvii. 2. 
P2 



28 CONTEMPLATIONS 

midnight-range ; is about your bed, when you indulge the loose 
desire ; and spies out all your ways, be they ever so sacredly 
conducted, or artfully disguised. 

Some minutes ago, a passenger crossed along the road. His 
horse's foot struck the ground, and fetched fire from a flint. 
My eyes, though at a distance, catch ed the view ; and saw, 
with great clearness, the transient sparkles : Of which, had 1 
been ever so near, I should not have discerned the least glimpse 

under the blaze of day. So,* when sickness has drawn a 

veil over the gaiety of > our hearts ; when misfortunes have 
eclipsed the splendor of our outward circumstances ; how ma- 
ny important convictions present themselves with the brightest 
evidence ! Under the sun-shine of prosperity, they lay undis- 
covered ; but, when some intervening cloud has darkened the 
scene, they emerge from their obscurity, and even glitter upon 
cur minds. — Then, the world, that delusive cheat, confesses 
her emptiness ; But Jesus, the bright and Morning-star, beams 
forth with inimitable lustre. Then vice looses all her fallacious 
allurements ; that painted strumpet is horrible, as the hags of 
hell; But virtue, despised virtue, gains loveliness from a lour- 
ing Providence, and treads the shades with more than mortal 

charms. May this reconcile me, and all the sons of sorrow, 

to our appointed share of suffering! if trniulation tend to dis- 
sipate the inward darkness, and pour heavenly day upon our 
minds; welcome distress ; welcome disappointment ; welcome- 
^whatever our fro ward flesh, or peevish passions would miscall 
calamities. These light afflictions which are but for a moment, 
shall sit easy upon our spirits; since they befriend our know- 
jedge ; promote our faith ; and so, " ivork out for us a far 
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory "\ 

How has this darkness snatched every splendid and graceful 
object from my sight ! It has dashed the sponge over the pic- 
tures of Spring, and destroyed all the delicate distinctions of 
things. Where are now the fine tinges, which so lately charmed 

* I beg leave to inform the young gentleman, whose name dig- 
nifies my dedication, that this was a remark of his hoabured /a- 
tter, when we rode together, and conversed in a dusky evening. 
I mention this circumstance, partly to secure the paragraph from 
contempt ; partly to give him and the world an idea of that 
eminently serious taste, which distinguished my deceased friend. 
—The less obvious the reflection, the more clearly it discovers a 
turn of mind remarkably spiritual ; which would suffer nothing 
to escape, without yielding some religious improvement. The 
meatier the incident,, the more admirable was that fertility of 
imagination, which could deduce the sublimest truths from the 
most trivial occurrences. 

t Cor. iv. 17. 



v ON- THE NIGHT. 27 

me from the glowing parterre? The blush is struck out from 
the cheeks of the rose, and the snowy hue is dropt from the 
lily. least my eyes towards a magnificent seat ; but the aspir- 
ing columns and fair expanded front, are mingled in rude con- 
fusion. Without the sun, all the elegance of the blooming 
world is a mere blank; alkheir symmetry of architecture, is a 
shapeless heap. 

Is not this an expressive emblem of the loveliness which the 
Sun of righteousness transfuses into all that is amiable? Was 
it not for Jesus and his merits; I should sigh with anguish of 
spirit ; even while i rove through ranks of the most beautiful . 
flowers, or breathe amidst a wilderness of sweets, Was it not 
for Jesus and his merits ; I should roam like some disconsolate 
spectre even through the smiles of creation, and the caresses 
of fortune. My conversation in this world, though dressed in 
the most engaging forms of external pleasure, would be like 
the passage of a condemned malefactor, through enamelled 
meadows and bowers of bliss, to be broke upon the wheel, or 
to expire on the rack. But a daily reflection on the Lamb's 
atoning blood, a comfortable trust, that my soul is reconciled 
through this divine expiation ; this is the ray, the goldetrray 
which irradiates the face of the universe. This is ike" oil of 
beauty, which makes all things wear a cheerful aspect ; and 
the oil of gladness which disposes the spectator to behold them 
with delight.* This, this is the secret charm, which teaches 
Nature in ali her .prospects, and ail her productions, so ex- 
quisitely to please. 

" Man goeth forth to his w 7 ork, and to Iris labour, till the 
evening." But then his strength fails; his spirits flag; and 
lie stands in need, not only of some respite from toil, but of 
some kindly and sovereign refreshments. — What an admirable 
provision for this purpose is sleep! Sleep introduces a most 
welcome vacation both for the soul and body, The exercises 

* Thus applied, that fine piece of flattery addressed to the 
Heathen Emperor, is strictly and literally true. 

Valtus ubi tuns 

Affulsit populoy gratior it dies, \ 

Et soles melius nitent. Hon at. 

Which I would cast in a Christian mould, and thus translate ; 
When Faith present's the Saviour's death, 

And whisper's, " This is thrne ;" 
Sweetly my rising hours advance, 

And peacefully decline. 
While such my views, the radiant sun 

Sheds a more sprightly ray ; 
Each object smiles ; ali nature charms \ 
1 sing my cares away, 



2$ CONTEMPLATIONS 

of the brain, and the labours of the hands are at once discon- 
tinued. So that the weary limbs repair their exhausted vigour ; 
while the pt7isive thoughts drop their load of sorrows, and the 
busy ones rest from the fatigue of application.— Most reviving 
cordial; equally beneficial to our animal and intellectual pow- 
ers. It supplies the fleshy machine, and keeps all its nice 
movements in a proper posture for easy play. It animates the 
thinking faculties with fresh alacrity, and rekindles their ar- 
dour for the studies of the dawn. " Without these enlivening 
recruits, how soon would the most robust constitution be wasted 
into a walking skeleton ; and the most learned sage degenerate 
into a hoary idiot ! — Some time ago, I beheld with surprise 
poor Florio. His hair was wild ; his countenance meagre ; 
his thoughts roving, and speech disconcerted. Inquiring the 
cause of this strange alteration, 1 was informed, that for seve- 
ral nights he had not closed his eyes in sleep. For want of 
that noble restorative, that sprightly youth (who was once the 
life of the discourse, and the darling of the company) is be- 
come the spectacle of misery and horror. 

How many of my fellow-creatures are, at this very instant, 
confined to the bed of languishing ; and complaining with 
that illustrious sufferer of old, Wearisome nights are appointed 
to me ! * Instead of indulging soft repose, they are counting 
the tedious Tiours ; telling every striking clock ; or measuring 
the very moments, by their throbbing pulse. How many, 
harassed with pain most passionately long to make some little 
truce with their agonies, in peaceful slumbers! How many, 
sick with disquietude, and restless even on their downy pillows, 
would purchase this transient oblivion of their woes, almost at 
any rate ! — That which wealth cannot procure, which multi- 
tudes fight for in vain, thy God has bestowed on thee, times 
out of number. The welcome visitant, punctual at the needed 
hour, has entered thy chamber, and poured his poppies round 
thy couch : has gently closed thy eye-lids, and shed his slum- 
berous dews over dll thy senses. 

Since sleep is so absolutely necessary, so inestimably valuable, 
observe what a fine apparatus Almighty Goodness has made to 
accommodate us with the balmy blessing. With how kind a 
precaution she removes whatever might obstruct its access, or 
impede its influence ! He draws around us the curtain of dark- 
ness ; which inclines us to a drowsy indolence, and conceals 
every object that might too strongly agitate the sense. He 
conveys peace into our apartments ; and imposes silence on 
the whole creation. Every animal is bidden to tread softly, 
or rather to cease from its motion, when man is retiring to his 
repose.— May we not discern, in this gracious disposition of 
* Job vii- 3» 



> ON THE NIGHT. 29 

things, the tender cares of a nursing mother ; who hushes eve- 
ry noise, and secludes every disturbance, when she has laid 
the child other love to rest? So, by such soothing circumstances, 
and gently working opiates HE giveth to his beloved, sleep.* 
Another signal instance of a Providence intent upon our wel- 
fare, is, that we are preserved safe in the hours of slumber. How 
are we then lost to all apprehension of danger, even though the 
murderer be at our bed-side, or his naked sword at our breast ! 
Destitute of all concern for ourselves, we are unable to think of, 
much more to provide for, our own security. At these mo- 
ments therefore, we lie open to innumerable perils: perils from 
the resistless rage of flames ; perils from the insidious artifices 
of thieves, or the outrageous violence of robbers ; perils from 
the irregular workingsf of our own thoughts, and especially 
from the incursions of our spiritual enemy. 

* Psalm cxxvii. 2. 

f I think it referable cmly to a superintending and watchful 
Providence that we are not hurried into the most pernicious ac- 
tions, when our imagination is heated, and our reason stupified 
by dreams— We have sometimes heard of unfortunate people, 
who, walking in their sleep, have thrown themselves headlong 
from a window, and been dashed to pieces on the pebbles^ And 
whence is it, that such disastrous accidents are only related as 
pieces of news,^not experienced by ourselves, or our families ? 
Were our minds more sober in their operations, or more circum- 
spect in their regards ? No, verily : Nothing could be more wild 
than tkeir excursions ; and none could foe more inattentive to 
their own welfare. Therefore, if we have laid us down and slept 
in peace ; it was because the LORD vouchsafed us the sweet 
refreshment ; If we rose again in safety, it was, because the 
LORD sustained us with his unmeritted protection. 

Will the candid reader excuse me, if I add a short story, or 
rather a matter of fact, suitable to the preceding remark. — Two 
persons, who had been hunting together in the day, slept toge- 
ther the following night. One of them was renewing the pur- 
suit in his dream, and, having run the whole circle of the chace, , 
came at last to the fall of the stag. Upon this, he cries out, 
with a determined ardour, F 11 kill him, I'll kill him: and im- 
mediately feels for the knife which he carried in his pocket. 
His companion, happening to be awake, and observing what 
passed, leaped from the bed. Being secure from danger, and 
the moon shining bright into the room, he stood to view the 
event. When, to his inexpressible surprise, the infatuated 
sportsman gave several deadly stabs in the very place, where a 
moment before, the throat and the life of his friend lay.— This I 
mention as a proof that nothing hinders ns, even from being as- 
sassins of others, or murderers of ourselves, amidst the mad sal- 
lies of sleep ; only the preventing care of our Heavenly Father. 



30 CONTEMPLATIONS 

What dreadful mischief might that restless, that implacable* 
adversary of mankind work, was there not an invisible hand 
to contfou 1 his rage, and protect poor mortals ' What scenes of 
horror might he represent to our imaginations, and " scare us 
with dreams, or terrify us with visions !"* But, the Keeper of 
Israel, who never slumbers nor sleeps, interposes in our be- 
half; at once to cherish under his wings, and to defend us as 
with a shield.— It is said of Solomon, "' that threescore valiant 
men were about his bed ; all expert iii war; every one with 
his sword upon his thigh, because of fear in the night."f But 
One greater than Solo?non } One mightier tharvmyriads of arm- 
ed hosts; even the great Jehovah, in whom is everlasting 
strength, he vouchsafes to encamp about our houses, to.watcfi 
over our sleeping minutes, and to stop ail the avenues of ill.^» 
O ! the unwearied and condescending goodness of our Crea- 
tor ! who lulls us to rest, by bringing on the silent shades ; and 
plants. hb own ever- watchful eye as our centinel, while we en- 
joy the needful repose. 

REASON now resigns her sedate office ; and Fancy, extra- 
vagant fancy, leads the mind through a maze of vanity. The 
head is crowned with false images, and tantalized with the 
most ridiculous misapprehensions of things. Some are expa- 
tiating amidst Fairy fields, and gathering garlands of visionary 
bliss ; while their bodies are stretched on a wisp of straw, and 
sheltered by the cobwebs of a barn. Others, quite insensible 
of their rooms of state, are mourning in a doleful dungeon, or 
struggling with the raging billows. Perhaps with hasty steps, 
they climb the craggy cliff; and, with real anxiety, fly from 
theimaginary danger. Or else, benumbed with sudden fear, 
and finding themselves unable to escape, they give up at once 
their hopes and their efforts ; and, though reclined on a couch 
of ivory, are sinking, all helpless and distressed, in the furious 
whirlpool. So unaccountable are the vagaries of the brain, 
while sleep maintains its dominion over the limbs ! 

But is this the only season, when absurd and incoherent irre- 
gularities play their magic on our minds ! Are there not those 
who dream) even in their waking moments ! — Some pride 
themselves in a notion of superior excellency, because the roy- 
al favour has annexed a few splendid titles to their names ; or 
because the dying silk-worm has bequeathed her finest threads, 

* What a complete master that malignant spirit is, in exhi- 
biting visi©nary representations, appears from his conduct tow- 
ards Christ, on the high mountain; and that he is too ready, 
if not restrained by an over-ruling power, to employ his dexte- 
rity in afflicting mankind, is evident from his treatment of Job. 
See Luke iv. 5. Job vii. 14. 

f Cant. iii. 7, 8. 






ON THE NIGHT. 31 

to 'cover their nakedness.— — Others congratulate their own 
signal happiness, because loads of golden lumber are amassed 
together in their coffers; or promise themselves a most super- 
lative felicity indeed, when some thousands more are added to 

the useless heap? Nor are there wanting others, Who gape 

after substantial satisfaction from any applause ; and flatter 
themselves with, I knew not what, immortality in the moment- 
ary buzz of renown -—Are any of these a whit more reasonable 
in their opinions, than the poor ragged wretch in his reveries, 
who, while snoring under a hedge, exults in the possession of 
his stately palace and sumptuous furniture :— If persons, who 
are very vassals to their own domineering passions, and led 
captive by numberless temptations ; if these persons pique 
themselves with a conceit of their liberty, and fancy themselves 
the generous and gallant spirits of the age: Where is the dif- 
ference between theirs and the madman's frenzy ; who though 
chained to the floor, is throned in thought, and wielding an 
imaginary sceptre ?— In a word, as many as borrow their dig- 
nity from a plume of feathers, or the gaudy trappings of for- 
tune ; as many as send their souls to seek for bliss in the blan- 
dishments of sense, or in any thing short of the divine favour, 
and a well-grounded hope of the incorruptible inheritance ;* 
what are they but dreamers with their eyes open ; delirious, 
though in health ? 

Would you see their picture drawn to the very life, and the 
success of their schemes calculated with the utmost exactness, 
cast your eye upon that fine representation exhibited by the pro- 
phet It shall be even as when a hungry man dreameth, and 
behold he eateth ; hut he awaketh, and behold his soul is empty : 
Or, as when a thirsty man dreameth, and behold, he drinkeih ; 
but he awaketh, and behold, he is faint, and his soul hath appe- 
tite^ Such is the race, and such the prize, of all those candi- 
dates for honour and joy, who run wide from the mark of the 
high calling of God, in Christ Jesus. They live in vanity 

and die in woe. Awaken us, merciful Lord, from these 

noon-tide trances ! Awaken while conviction may turn to our 
advantage, and not serve only to encrease our torment. O ! let 
our " eyes be enlightened to discern the things that are excel- 
lent ;" and no longer be imposed upon by fantastic appearan- 
ces, which, however pompous they may seem, will prove mere 
empty than the visions of the night, more transient than the 
dream that is forgotten, 

Having mentioned sleep and dreams, let me once again con- 

* These gave a sacred and home-felt delight, 

A sober certainty of waking bliss. Milt. Conius, 

f Isaiah xxix. 8. 



32 CONTEMPLATIONS 

sider those remarkable incidents of our frame ; so very remark- 
able, that I may venture to call them a kind of experimental 
mystery, and little less than a standing miracle. —^-Behold 
the most vigorous constitution, when stretched on the bed of 
ease, and totally resigned to the slumbers of the night. Its 
activity is oppressed with fetters of indolence; its strength is 
consigned over to a temporary annihilation ; the nerves are 
like a bow unstrung, and the whole animal system is like a 
motionless log. — — Behold a person of the most delicious sen- 
sations and amiable dispositions. His eyes though thrown 
wide open, admit not the visual ray ; at least, distinguish not 
objects. His ears, with the organs unimpaired, and articulate 
accents beating upon the drum, perceive not the sound ; sit 
least, apprehend not the meaning* The senses, and their ex- 
quisitely fine feelings, are overwhelmed with an unaccounta- 
ble stupefaction. You call him a social creature : but where 
are his social affections? He knows not the Father that begat 
him, and takes no notice of the Friend that is as his own soul. 
The wife of his bosom may expire by his side, and he lie more 
unconcerned than a barbarian. The children of his body may 
be tortured with the severest pangs ; a»d he, even in the same 
chamber, remain untouched with the least commisseration.— 
Behold the most ingenious scholar : whose judgment is pierc- 
ing, and able to trace the most intricate difficulties of science ; 
his taste refined, and quick to relish all the beauties of senti* 
ment and composition. Yet, at this juncture, the thinking 
faculties are unhinged, and the intellectual ceconomy quite 
disconcerted. Instead of close connected reasoning nothing 
but a disjointed huddle of absurd ideas : instead of well-di- 
gested principles, nothing but a disorderly jumble of crude 
conceptions. The most palpable delusions impose upon his 
imagination. The whole night passes, and he frequently mis- 
takes it for a single minute ; is not sensible of the transition, 
hardly sensible of any duration. 

Yet, no sooner does the morning dawn, and day-!ight enters 
the room than this strange enchantment vanishes. The man 
awakes, and finds himself possessed of all the valuable endow- 
ments, which, for several hours, were suspended or lost. His 
sinews are braced, and fit for action. His senses are alert and 
keen. The romantic visionary heightens into the master of 
reason. The frozen or benumbed affections melt into tender- 
ness, and glow with benevolence. And, what is beyond mea- 
sure surprising, the intoxicated mind works itself sober, not by 
slow degrees ; but, in the twinkling of an eye, recovers from 
its perturbation. — Why does not the stupor, which deadens all 
the nice operations of* the animal powers, hold fast its posses- 
sion? When the thoughts are once disadjusted, why are they 



ON THE NIGHT. 33 

not always in confusion? How is it, that they are rallied in a 
moment ; and from the wildest irregularity, reduced to the 
most orderly array !~— From an inactivity resembling death, 
how is the body so suddenly restored to vigour and agility t 
From extravagancies, bordering upon madness ; how is the un- 
derstanding instantaneously re-established, in sedateness and 
harmony ?— Surely (i this is the Lord's doing, and it should 
be marvellous in our ey&s ;" should awaken our gratitude, and 
inspirit our praise. 

This is the time in which ghosts arJe supposed to make their 
appearance. Now the timorous imagination teems with phan- 
toms, and creates numberless terrors to itself. Now dreary 
forms, in sullen state, stalk along the gloom ; or swifter than 
lightning, glide across the shades. Now voices more than 
mortal* are heard from the echoing vaults, and groans issue 
from the hollow tombs. Now melancholy spectres visit the 
ruins of ancient monasteries, and frequent the solitary dwellings 
of the dead. They pass and repass, in unsubstantial images 
along the forsaken galleries ; or take their determined stand 
over some lamented grave.—- — How often has the school-boy 
fetched along circuit, and trudged many a needless step, in 
order to avoid the haunted church-yard ? Or, if necessity, sad 
necessity, has obliged him to cross the spot, where human 
sculls are lodged below, and the baleful yetvs shed supernume- 
rary horrors above ; a thousand hideous stories rush into his 
memory.— Fear adds wings to his feet ; he scarce touches the 
ground ; dares not once look behind him : and blesses his good 
fortune, if no frightful sound purred at his heels, if no ghastly 
shape bolted upon his sight. 

It is strange to observe the excessive timidity which possesses 
many people's minds, on ih'vs fanciful occasion : while they are 
void of all concern, on others of the most tremendous import. 
Those who are startled, in any dark and lonely walk, at the 
very apprehension of a single spectre, are nevertheless unim- 
pressed at the sure prospect of entering into a whole world of 
disembodied beings ; nay, are without any emotions of awe, 
though they know themselves to be hastening into the presence 
of the Great, Infinite, and Eternal Spirit.—- — -Should some pale 
messenger from the regions of the dead, draw back our cur- 
tains at the hour of midnight; and appointing some particular 
place, say, as the horrid apparition to Brutus, Til meet thee 
there :f — l believe the boldest heart would feel something like a 
* Vox cuoque per luces <valgo exaudita silentes 
lagens, et simulacra inodis paflentra miris 
Visa sub obscurum noctis. Virg. 

t The stc:/ of Brutus and his e<vil genius is well known. Nor 
must it be denied, that the preci&e words of the spectre to the 

Q 



34 CON TEM PLATIONS 

panic ; would seriously think upon the adventure, and be ia 
pain for the event. But, when a voice from Heaven, cries in 
the awakening language of the Prophet, Prepare te meet thy 
GOD, Israel ;* how little is the warning regarded ! how 
soon is it forgot ! Preposterous stupidity ! to be utterly uncon- 
cerned, where it is the truest wisdom to take the alarm ; and 
to be all trepidation, where there is nothing really terrible !— 
Dost thou, my soul, remember th^ Saviour's admonition; 
<( I xvill forivarn you, whom you shall fear. Fear not thes^e 
imaginary horrors of the night: But fear that awful Being, 
whose revelation of himself, though with expressions of pecu- 
liar mercy, made Moses, his favourite servant, tremble exceed- 
ingly. Whose manifestation, when he appears with purposes 
of inexorable vengeance, will make mighty conquerors, who 
were familiar with dangers and estranged to dismay,, call on 
the mountains to fall on them, and the rocks to cover them : 
The menace of whose Majestic eye, when he comes attended 
"with thousand thousands of his immortal hosts, will make the 
very Heavens cleave asunder, and the earth fly away.— ! 
dread his displeasure; secure his favour: arid then thou 
mayest commit all thy other anxieties to the wind ; thou may- 
est laugh at every other fear.." 

This brings to my mind a memorable and amazing occur- 
rence, recorded in the book of Job ;f which is, I think, no in- 
considerable proof of the real existence of apparations,^ oh 

hero were, " I'll meet thee at Philippic But as this would not 
answer my purpose, I was obliged to make an alteration, in 
the circumstance of place. 

* Amos iv. 12. t J°b iv. 12, 14, &c. 

\ Is a proof of the real existence of apparitions- — if the sense in 
which 1 have always understood the passage, be true. — EliphaZ, 
I apprehend* was neither in a trance, nor in a dream, but per- 
fectly awake. — Though he speaks of sleep ; he speaks of it, as 
fallen not upon himself, but upon other men. He does not men- 
tion dreams, though somnia would have suited the verse (if the 
book be in metre) altogether as well as visiones. — It could not 
surely be a wind? as some translate the word. Because the cir- 
cumstance of standing still is not so comparable with the nature 
of a wind ; and a wind would have passed above him, all around 
him, as well as before him. Not to add, how long a remark it 
is, and how unworthy of a place in so august a description* tfeat 
he could not discern the form of a wind: — It seems, therefore, to 
have been a real spirit : Either angelical, as were those w4^ 
presented themselves to Abraham resting at the door of the tent, 
and to Lot sitting in the gate of Sodom ; or else the spirit of 
some departed saint, as in the case of Samuel* s apparition, or 
the famous appearance of Moses and Elijah on the mount of 
transfiguration. — A spirit assuming some vehicle, in order to be- 









ON THE NIGHT. 35 

some very extraordinary emergencies ; while it discountenan- 
ces those legions of idle tales, which superstition has raised, and 
credulity received. Since it teaches u*!, that if at any time, 
those visitants from the unknown world render themselves per- 
ceivable by mortals, it is not upon any errand of frivolous con- 
sequence, but to convey intelligences of the utmost moment, or 
taivork i??ipressions of the highest advantage. 

ft was in the dead of night. All nature lay shrouded in 
darkness. Every creature was buried in sleep. The most 
profound silence reigned through the universe. In these so- 
lemn moments, Eiiphaz alone, all wakeful and solitary, was 

musing upon sublime and heavenly subjects, When !o ! an 

awful being, from the invisible realms, burst into his apart- 
ment.* A spirit passed before ids face. Astonishment seiz- 
ed the beholder. His bones shivered within him; his flesh 
trembled all over him ; and the hair of his head stood erect 
with horror. — Sudden and unexpected was the appearance of 
the phantom ; not such its departure. It stood still, to pre- 
sent itself more fully to his view. It made a solemn pause, to 
prepare his mind for some momentous message — After which, 
a voice was heard : A voice, for the importance of its meaning, 
worthy to be had in everlasting remembrance ; for the solem- 
nity of its delivery, enough to alarm a heart of stone. It spoke : 
and this was the purport of its words; — <s Shall man. frail man, 
foe just before the mighty GOD ? Shall even the most accom- 
H plished of mortals be pure in the sight of his Maker' ?\ Be- 
come visible to the human eye ; Which accordingly Eiiphaz 
saw, exhibiting itself as an object of sight : but saw so ob- 
scurely and indistinctly, that he was not able either to describe 
its aspect^ or to discern whom it resembled. 

* I have given this solemn picture a modern dress; rather for 
the sake of variety and illustration, than from any apprehension 
of improving the admirable original. Such an attempt, I am 
sensible, would be more absurdly vain, than to lacquer gold, or 
paint the diamond. The description in Eiiphaz' 's own lan- 
guage, is awful and affecting to the last degree ; a night-piece, 
dressed in all the circumstances of the deepest horror. I ques- 
tion, whether Shakespeare himself, though so peculiarly happy 
for his great command of terrifying images, has any thing su- 
perior or comparable to this. The juflges of fine composition 
see the masterly strokes ; and, I believe the most ordinary read- 
er feels them chilling his blood, and awakening emotions of 
dread in his mind. 

f There seems to be a significant and beautiful gradation in 
the Hebrew, which I have endeavoured to preserve, by a sort of 
paraphrastic 'version. — The reader will observe a new turn given 
to the sentiment ; preferable I think, to that which our English 



26 CONTEMPLATION S 

hold, and consider it attentively. He puts no trust in Ms most 
exalted servants, as should bespeak them incapable of defect. 
And ids very angels he charged with folly ; as sinking, even 
in the highest perfection of their holiness, infinitely beneath his 
transcendant glories ; as falling, even in all the fidelity of their 
obedience, inexpressibly short of the homage dus^o his adora- 
ble Majesty. If angelic natures must not presume to justify 
either themselves or their services, before uncreated purity ; 
how much more absurd is such a notion, how much more impi- 
ous such an attempt, in them that dwell in houses of clay ; 
whose original is from the dust, and whose state is all im- 
perfection !" 

I would observe from hence, the very singular necessity of 
Wirt poverty of spirit, which entirely renounces its own attain- 
ments, and most thankfully submits to the righteousness of the 
incarnate God. — To inculcate this lesson, the Son of the Bless- 
ed came down from heaven ; and pressed no other principle 
with so repeated* an opportunity, on his hearers. To instil 
the same doctrine, the Holy Gnost touched the lips of the 
Apostles with sacred eloquence ; and made it an eminent part 
of their commission, " to demolish every high imagination." 
That no expedient might be wanting, to give it a deep and 
lasting efficacy on the human mind ; a phantom arises from 
the valley of the shadow of death, as a teacher descends from 
the habitation of spirits. — Whatever then we neglect, let us 
not neglect to cultivate this grace, which has been so variously 
taught, so powerfully enforced. 

Hark! a doleful voice. — With sudden starts and hideous 
screams, it disturbs the silence of the peaceful night. It is the 
screech-ozvl, sometimes in frantic, sometimes in disconsolate 

translation exhibits. Not, Shall man be more just than GOB ? 
But, Shall man be just before, or in the sight of GOD ? The pas- 
sage thus rendered, speaks a truth incomparably more weighty, 
and needful to be inculcated : A truth, exactly parallel to that 
humbling confession of the Prophet, We are all as an unclean 
thing ; and to that solemn declaration of the Psalmist, In thy 
.-sight shall no man thing be justified. 

* It is well worthy of our observation, says an excellent com- 
mentator, " That no one sentence uttered by our Lord, is so 
frequently repeated as this, Whosoever shall exalt himself shall 
be abased ; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted." 
Which often occurs in the evangelists ; but is never duly ac- 
complished in us, till we disclaim all pretension to merit and 
i-ighteousness of our own, and seek them only in the atone- 
ment and obedience of Jesus Christ. 



ON THE NIGHT. 3^ 

accents, uttering her woes.* She flies the vocal grove, and 
shuns the society of all the feathered choir. The blooming 
gardens, and flowery meads, have no charms for her. Obscene 
shades, ragged ruins, and walls overgrown with ivy, are her 
favourite haunts. Above, the mouldering precipice, nods and 
threatens a fall ; below, the toad crawls, or the poisonous adder 
hisses. The sprightly morning, which awakens other animals 
into joy, administers no pleasure to this gloomy recluse. Even 
the smiling face of day is her aversion ; and all its lovely scenes 
create nothing but uneasiness. 

So, just so, would it fare with the ungodly, were it possible 
to suppose their admission into the chaste and bright abodes 
of endless felicity. They would find nothing but disappoint- 
ment and shame, even at the fountain head of happiness and 
honour. — For how could the tongue, habituated toprofaneness r 
taste any delight in the harmonious adorations of Heaven ? 
how could the iips, cankered with slander, relish the rapture*, 
of everlasting praise ? Where would be the satisfaction of (lie 
vain beauty, or the supercilious grandee * Since, in the temple 
of the skies, no incense of flattery would be addressed to the! 
former ; nor any obsequious homage paid to the latter. — The 
spotless and inconceivable purity of the blessed God, would 
flash confusion on the lascivious eye. The envious mind must 
be on a rack of self-tormenting passions, to observe million?, 
of happy beings, shining in all the perfections of glory, and 
solacing themselves in the fulness of joy. — In short, the un- 
sanctified soul, amidst holy and triumphant spirits ; even in 
the refined regions of bliss and immortality ; would be like 
this melancholy bird, dislodged from her darksome retirement, 
and imprisoned under the beams of day.f . 

* Solcequc cxdminibus ferali carmine bubo 
Sepe queri, longasque infietum ducere 'voces. 
Thus sung that charming genius, that prince of the ancient po- 
ets, that most consummate master of elegance and accuracy ; 
all whose sentiments are nature, whose every description is a pic- 
ture, whose whole language is music -Virgil. 

f 1 would beg of the reader to observe, with what emphasis 
and propriety our Lord touches this important point, in his me- 
morable reply to Nicodemus. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Ex- 
cept a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven; 
<j d. " I wave the authority of the Supreme Judge, and speak 
with the condescension of a teacher in Israel, Though I might, 
without being liable to the least controul, pass it into a sove- 
reign decree, that unrenewed mortals, who are slaves to cor- 
rupt appetite, shall not enter the habitations of the just ; I ra- 
ther chus£ to represent it as a case utterly impossible; and charge; 
the calamity, not upon divine severity, but upon human folly, 
Q 2 



SB CONTEMPLATIONS 

The voice of this creature screaming at our windows,, or of 
the raven croaking over our houses, is, they say/ a token of 
approaching death. There are persons, who would regard 
such an incident with no small degree of solicitude. Trivial 
as it is, it would damp their spirits, perhaps break their rest. — 
One cannot but wonder, that people should suffer themselves 
to be affrighted at such fantastical, and yet be quite unaffect- 
ed with real presages of their dissolution. Real presages of 
this awful event, address us from every quarter. What are 
these incumbent glooms which ovei whelm the world, but a 
kind of pall provided for Nature ; and an image of that long 
night, which will quickly cover the inhabitants of the whole 
earth ? What affinity has the sleep* which will very soon 
weigh down my drowsy eye-lids, with that state of entire ces- 
sation, in which all my senses must be laid aside ! The silent 
chamber, and the bed of slumber, are a very significant repre- 
sentation of the land, where all things are hushed, all things 
are forgotten. — What meant that deep death-bell note, which, 
the other evening, saddened the air ? Laden with heaviest ac- 
cents, it struck our ears, and seemed to knock at the door of 
$ur hearts. Surely it brought a message to surviving mortals, 
and thus the tidings ran : " Mortals, the destroyer of your race 
is on his way. The last enemy has begun the pursuit ; and 
as gaining ground upon you every moment. His paths are 
strewed with heaps of slain. Even ( no\v his javelin has laid 
one of your neighbours in the dust ; and will soon, very soon, 
aim the inevitable blow at each of our lives." 

We need not go down to the charnel-house, nor carry otir 
search into the repositories of the dead, in order to find me- 
morials of our impending doom. A multitude of these re- 
membrancers are planted in ^11 our paths, and point the heed- 
jess passengers to theinlong home. I can hardly enter a con- 
siderable town, but 1 meet the funeral procession, or the 
mourners going about the streets. The hatchment suspended 
on the walls, or the crape streaming in the air, are silent inti- 
mations, that both rich and poor have been emptying their 
houses, and replenishing their sepulchres. I can scarce join 
, in any conversation, but mention is made of some that are 
given over by the physician, and hovering on the confines of 
eternity ; of others, that have just dropt their clay amidst 

Such persons, from the very nature of things, preclude them- 
selves ; they incapicitate their own minds ; and contrarieties 
must be reconciled, before th$y, in their unregenerated condi- 
tion, can be partakers of those spiritual and sublime delights.'* 
yohn in. 3. 

* Et consanguineas letbi sopor. VirG. 



ON THE NIGHT. 39 

weeping friends, and are gone to appear before the Judge of 
all the earth. There is not a news-paper comes to my hand, 
but, amidst all its entertaining narrations, I read several serious 
lectures of mortality. What else are the repeated accounts — 
of age worn out by slow consuming sicknesses — of youth dash- 
ed to pieces by some sudden stroke of casualty — of patriots 
exchanging their seats in the senate, for a lodging in the tomb 
— of misers resigning their breath, and (O relentless destiny !) 
leaving their very riches for others? Even the vehicles of our 
amusements are registers of the deceased ; and the voice of 
fame seldom sounds but in concert with a knell. 

These monitors croud every place ; not so much as the 
scenes of our diversion excepted. What are the decorations of 
our public buildings, and the most elegant furniture of our par- 
Jours, but the imagery of death, and trophies of the tomb? 
That marble bust, and those gilded pictures, how solemnly 
they recognize the fate of others, and speakingly remind us 

of our own ! -I see, I hear, and O ! I feel this great truth. 

It is interwoven with my constitution. The frequent decays of 
the structure foretel its final ruin. What are all the pains, that 
have been darted through my limbs ; what every disease that 
has assaulted ray health, but the advanced guard of the foe? 
What are the languors and weariness which attend the labours 
of each revolving day, but the more secret practices of the ad- 
versary, slowly underminding the earthly tabernacle? 

Amidst so many notices, shall we go on thoughtless and 
unconcerned ? Can none of these prognostics, which are sure 
as oracles, awaken our attention, and engage our circumspec- 
tion? NoahM is written, being warned of GOD, prepared an 
ark. Imitate, my soul, imitate this excellent example. Ad- 
monished by such a cloud of witnesses, be continually putting 
thyself in a readiness for the last change. Let not that day, of 
which thou hast so many infallible signs, come upon thee una- 
wares. — Get the ivy untwined, and thy affections disentangled 
from this enchanting world, that thou mayest be able to quit 
it without reluctance. Get the dreadful hand-writing cancell- 
ed, and all thy sins blotted out, that thou mayest depart in 
peace, and have nothing to fear at the decisive tribunal. Get, 
O ! get thyself interested in the Redeemer's merits, and trans- 
formed into his sacred image ; then shalt thou be meet for the 
inheritance of saints in light, and mayest even desire to be di»> 
solved, and to be with Christ. 

Sometimes in my evening- walk, I have heard 

The wakeful bird 

Sing darkling, and in shadiest covert hid, 
Tune her nocturnal note. * 

* Mjvton's Par, Lost, b. III. L S8. 



40 CONTEMPLATIONS 

How different the airs of this charming songster from those 
harsh and boding outcries ! The little creature ran through all 
the variations of music, and shewed herself mistress of every 
grace, which constitutes or embellishes harmony, Some- 
times she swells a manly throat and her song kindles into ar- 
dour. The tone is so bold and strikes with such energy, you 
would imagine the sprightly serenader in the very next thicket. 
Anon the strain languishes, and the mournful warbler melts 
into tenderness. The melancholy notes just steal upon the 
shades, and faintly touch your ear ; or, in soft and sadly-pleas- 
ing accents, they seem to die along the distant vale. Silence 
is pleased, and night listens to the trilling tale. 

What an invitation is this, to slip away from the thronged 
city ? This coy and modest minstrel entertains only the lovers 
of retirement. Those who are carousing over their bowls, or 

ranting in the riotous club, lose this feast of harmony. In 

like manner, the pleasures of religion, and the joy of reconcilia- 
tion with God : the satisfactions arising from an established in- 
terest in Christ, and from the prospect of a blissful immor- 
tality ; these are all lost to the mind, that is ever in the croud ; 

and dares not, nor delights not, to retire into itself. Are we 

charmed with the nightingale's song ? Do we wish to have it 
nearer, and hear it oftener ? Let us seek a renewed heart, and 
a resigned will ; a conscience that whispers peace, and passions 
that are tuned by grace. Then shall we never want a melody 
in our own breasb, far more musically pleasing than sweet Phi- 
lomela's sweetest strains. 

As different as the voices of these birds, are the circumstances 
of those few persons who continue awake. — Some are squander- 
ing, pearls shall I say, or kingdoms ? No : but what is unspeak- 
ably more precious, time; squandering this inestimable talent 
with the most senseless and wanton prodigality. Not content- 
with allowing a few spare minutes for the purpose of necessary 
recreation, they lavish many hours, devote whole nights to that 
idle diversion of shuffling, ranging, and detaching a set of 
painted pasteboards. — -Others, instead of this busy trifling, act 
the part of their own tormentors. They even piquet them- 
selves,* and call it amusement ; they are torn by wild horses, 
yet term it a sport. What else is the gamester's practices? 
His mind is stretched on the tenter-hooks of anxious suspence, 
and agitated by the fiercest extremes of hope and fear. While 
the dice are rattling, his heart is throbbing ; his fortune is tot- 
tering : And, possibly, at the very next throw, the one sinks in 
the gulphof ruin, the other is hurried into the rage of dis- 
traction. 

* Alluding to a very painful punishment inflicted on delin- 
quents among the soldiery. 



ON THE NIGHT. 41 

Some, snatched from the bloom of health, and the lap of 
plenty, are confined to the chamber of sickness ; where they 
are constrained either to plunge into the everlasting world in 
an unprepared condition; or else (sad alternative!) to think 
over all the follies of a heedless life, and ail the bitterness of 
approaching death. The disease rages ; it baffles the force of 
medicine; and urges the reluctant wretch to the brink of the 
precipice ; while furies rouse the conscience, and point at the 
bottomless pit below. — —Perhaps, his drooping mother, de- 
prived long ago of the husband of her bosom, and bereft of 
all her offspring, is, even now, receiving the blow which con- 
summates her calamities.* In vain she tries to assuage the 
sorrows of a beloved son ; in vain she attempts with her tender 
orifices, to prolong a life, dearer than her own. He faints in 
her arms ; he bows his head ; he sinks in death. Fatal, doubly 
fatal, that last expiring pang ! While it dislodges the unwilling 
soul, it rends an only child from the yearning embraces of a 
parent, and tears away the support of her age from a discon- 
solate widow. 

While those long for a reprieve, others invite the stroke, 
Quite 1 weary of the world, with a restless impatience, they 
sigh for dissolution : Some pining away under the tedious de- 
cays of an incurable consumption : or gasping for breath, and 
almost suffocated by an inundation of dropsical waters. On 
some a relentless cancer has fastened its envenomed teeth ; and 
is gnawing them, though in the midst of bodily vigour, in the 
midst of pitying friends, gradually to death. Others are on 
a rack of agonies, by convulsive fits of the stone. O ! how 
the pain writhes their limbs ; how the sweat bedews their flesh, 

* This brings to my mind one of the deepest mourning pieces 
extant in the productions of the pen. The sacred historian 
paints it m all the simplicity cf style, yet with all the strength 
of colouring.— When yESUS came nigh to the gate of the city, 
behold ! there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mo- 
ther, and she was a widow. — What a gradation is here! How 
pathetically beautiful ! Every fresh circumstance widens the 
wound; aggravates the calamity ; till the description is worked 
up into the most finished picture of exquisite and inconsolable 
distress. — He was a young man ; cut off in the flower of life, 
amidst a thousand gay expectations, and smiling hopes. A son •, 
an only sen ; the afflicted mother's all : So that none remained 
to preserve the name, or perpetuate the family. What render- 
ed the case still more deplorable, she was a widow : left entire- 
ly desolate ; abandoned to her woes ; without any to share her 
sorrows, or comfort her under the irreparable loss.— Is not this 
a flue sketch of the impassioned and picturesque ? Who can 
consider the narrative with any attention, and not feel his heart 
penetrated with a tender commiseration ? Luke \ii. 12. 



42 CONTEMPLATIONS 

and their eye-balls wildly roll ! Methinks the night condoles 
with these her distressed children, and sheds dewy tears over 

their sorrowful abodes. -But of all mortals, they are the most 

exquisitely miserable, who groan beneath the pressure of a 
melancholy mind, or smart under the lashes of a resentful con- 
science. Though robed in ermine, or covered with jewels, 
the state of a slave chained to the galleys, or of an exile con* 
demned to the mines, is a perfect paradise compared to theirs. 

O ! that the votaries of mirth, whose life is a continued 
round of merriment and whim, would bestow one serious re- 
flection on this variety of human woes ! it might teach them 
to be less enamoured with the few languid sweets, that are 
thinly scattered through this vale of tears, and environed with 
such a multitude of ragged thorns. It might teach them no 
longer to dance away their years, with a giddy rambling im- 
pulse ; but to aspire with a determined aim, after those happy 
regions, where delights, abundant and unembittered, flow. 

Can there be circumstances, which a man of wisdom would 
more earnestly deprecate, than these several instances of grevi- 
ous tribulation ? There are ; and what is very astonishing, they 
are frequently the desire and choice of those, who fancy them- 
selves the sole heirs of happiness : Those I mean who are 
launching into the depths of extravagance, and running ex- 
cessive lengths of riot : Who are prostituting their reputation, 
and sacrificing their peace to the gratification of their lusts ; 
sapping the foundation of their health-, in debaucheries ; or 
shipwrecking the interests of their families, in their bowls ; 
and what is worse, are forfeiting the joys of an eternal Heaven, 
for the sordid satisfactions of the beast, for the transitory sen- 
sations of an hour. Ye slaves of appetite, how far am I from 
envying your gross sensualities, and voluptuous revels ! Little, 
ah ! little are. you sensible, thai while indulgence showers her 
roses, and Luxury diffuses her odours, they scatter poisons al- 
so, and shed unheeded bane ;* Evils incomparably more ma- 
lignant, than the wormwood and gall of the sharpest affliction. 
— — Since death is in the drunkard's cup, and worse than poin- 
ards in the harlot's embrace, may it ever be the privilege of 
the man wJaom I lore, to go without his share of these pestih 
sweets If 

Abundance of living sparks glitter in the lanes, and twinkle. 

* Yes : in the flow'rs that wreathe the sparkling bowl, 

Fell adders hiss, and pois'nous serpents roll. Frier's Sol. 
t %cm suave esi suavitatibus istis carere / was St. Augustine's 
pious exclamation. The substance of which Mr. Pope has ex- 
pressed with more simplicity, and with no less dignity : 
Count all th' advantage prosp'reus Vice attains j 
Tis but what Virtue flies from and disdains, 



ON THE NIGHT. 43 

under the hedge, I suppose they are the glow-worms ; /which 
have lighted their little lamps, and obtained leave, through the 
absence of the sun, to -play a feeble beam* A faint glimmer 
just serves to render them perceivable, without tending at all to 
dissipate the shades, or making any amends for the departed 

day. -Should some weather-beaten traveller, dripping with 

wet, and shivering with cold, hover round this mimicry of fire, 
in order to dry his garments, and warm his benumned limbs ; 
should some bewildered traveller, 'groping for his way, in a 
starless night, and trackless desart, take one of these languid 
tapers, as a light to his feet, and a lantern to his paths : How 
certainly would both the one and the other be frustrated of 
their expectation !— And are they more likely to succeed, who 
neglecting that sovereign balm, which distilled from the cross, 
apply any carnal diversion to heal the anxiety of the mind ? 
Who, deaf to the infallible decisions of revelation, resign them- 
selves over to the erroneous conjectures of reason, in order to 
fjiid the way that leadeth unto life! Or, lastly, who have re* 
course to the froth of this vain world, for a satisfactory portion, 
and a substantial happiness? Their conduct is in no degree wi- 
ser; their disappointment equally sure; and their miscarriage 
iniinitely more disastrous. To speak in the delicate language 
of a sacred writer, " they sow the wind, and reap the whirl- 
wind."* 

To speak more plainly ; the pleasures of the world, which 
we are all so prone to dote upon ; and the powers of fallen rea- 
son; which some are so apt to idolize ;f are not only vain, but 

* Hos. viii. 7. 

+ 1 hope it will be observed, that I am far from decrying that 
noble faculty of reason, when exerted in her proper sphere ; 
when actiag in a deferential subordination to the revealed will of 
heaven. While she exercises her powers within these appoint- 
ed limits, she is unspeakably serviceable, and cannot be too in- 
' dustriously cultivated. ---But, when she sets up herself in proud 
contradiction to the sacred oracles : when, all arrogant and 
self-sufficient, she says to the word of scripture, I have no need 
of thee ; she is then, I must be bold to maintain, not only a 
gfo'w-worm, but an ignusfatuus ; not only a bubble, but a snare. 

May not this remark, with the strictest propriety, and with- 
out the least limitation, be applied to the generality of our mo- 
dern romances, novels and theatrical entertainments ? These 
are commonly calculated to inflame a wanton fancy ; or, ifcon- 
ducted with so much modesty as not to debauch the affections, 
they pervert the judgment and bewilder the taste. By their in- 
credible adventures ; their extravagant parade o£ gallantry ; - 
and their characters, widely different from truth and nature ; 
they inspire foolisk coacexts ; beget idle expectations ; intro 



U CONTEMPLATIONS 

treacherous : Not only a painted flame, like those sparkling 
animals ; but much like those unctuous exhalations, which 
arise from the marshy ground, and often dance before the eves 
of the benighted way-faring man. Kindled into a sort of fire, 
they personate a guide, and seem to offer their, service : hur> 
blazing with delusive light, mislead their follower into hidden 
pits, headlong precipices, and unfathomable gulfs ; where far 
from his beloved friends, far from all hopes of succour, the 
unhappy wanderer is swallowed up and lost. 

Not long ago, we observed a very surprising appearance in 
the Western sky. A prodigious star took its flaming route 
through those coasts ; and trailed, as it passed, a tremendous 
length of fire, almost over half the heavens. Some, 1 imagine, 
viewed the portentous stranger, with much the same anxious 
amazement, as Belshazar beheld the hand- writing upon the 
wall. Some looked upon it as a bloody flag* hung out by 
divine resentment, over a guilty world. Some read, in its 
glaring visage, the fate of nations, and the fall of kingdoms. f 
To others, it shook, or seemed to shake, pestilence and xvar 
from its horrid hair. — For my part, I am not so superstitious 
as to regard what every astrologer has to prognosticate, upon 
the accession of a comet, or the projection of its huge vapoury 
N train. Nothing can be more precarious and unjustifiable, than 
to draw such conclusions from such events : Since they neither 
are preternatural effects, nor do they throw the frame of things 
into any disorder. I would rather adore that Omnipotent Be- 
ing, who rolled those stupendous orbs from his creating hand ; 
and leads them by his providential eye, through immeasurable 
tracts of aether : Who bids them now approach the sun, and 
glow with unsufTerable ardors ;$ now retreat to the utmost 
bounds of our planetary system, and make their entry among 
other worlds. 

They are harmless visitants, I acquit them the charge of cau- 
sing, or being accessary to, desolating plagues. Would to 

duce a disgust of genuine history ; and indispose their admlr- 
er^to acquiesce in the decent civilities, or to relish the sober sa- 
tisfactions of common life. 

* Liquida si quando node cometa 

Sanguinei iugubre rubent. — Virc. 

f Crinemque timendi 

Sideris et terris mutantem regna comettim. Lucan. 
| " The comet, in the year 1680, according to Sir Isaac 
"Newton's computation, was, in its nearest approach, about 166 
times nearer the sun than the earth. Consequently, its heat 
was 28,000 times greater than that of Summer. So that a ball 
of iron as big as the earth, heated by it, would hardly become 
cool in 50,000 years. 5 * Dirh. Jstr. Ibeol. p. 23K# 



ON THE NIGHT. 45 

God, there were no other more formidable indications of ap- 
proaching judgments or impending ruin ! But, alas ! when 
vice becomes predominant, and irreligion almost epidemical : 
When the Sabbaths of a jealous God are notoriously profaned : 
and that H name which is great, wonderful, and holy," is pros- 
tituted to the meanest, or abused to the most execrable purpo- 
ses: When the worship of our Great Creator and Preserver is 
banished from many of the most conspicuous f amities ; and it 
is deemed a piece of rude impertinence, so much as to mention 
the gracious Redeemer, in our genteel interviezvs : When it 
passes for an elegant freedom of behaviour, to ridicule the mys- 
teries of Christianity ; and a species of refined conversation, to 
taint the air with lascivious hints : When those who sit in the 
scanner's chair, sin With a high hand: And many of those 
who wear the professor's garb, are destitute of the power, 
and content themselves with the mere form of godliness : 
When such is the state of a community, there is reason, too ap- 
parent reason, to be horribly afraid. Such phenomena , abound- 
ing in the moral world, are not fanciful, but real omens. Will 
not an injured God " be avenged on such a nation as this?" 
Will lie not be provoked to " sweep it with the besom of des- 
truction ?"* 

O ! that the inhabitants of Great Britain would lay these 
alarming considerations to heart ! The Lord of hosts has 
commanded the sword of civil discord to return into its sheath. 
But have we returned every one from his evil ways ? Are we 
become a renewed people ; devoted to a dying Saviour; and 
zealous of good works ?-— W r hat mean those peals of isobs, 
■which burst from the expiring cattle ? What mean those me- 
lancholy moans where the lusty droves were wont to low ?f 
What mean those arrows bf untimely death discharged on our 
innocent and useful animals ? 

No wantonness or sloth has vitiated the blood of these labori- 
ous, temperate creatures. They have contracted no disease 

* Isa. xiv, 23. The Eternal Sovereign, speaking of Babylon, 
denounces this threatening, I will sweep it with the besom of de- 
struction* — What a noble, but dreadful image, is here ! How 
strongly and awfully pourtrayed ! How pregnant also in its sig- 
nification ! intimating the vile nature, and expressing the total 
extirpation of this wicked people; at the same time suggesting 
the perfect ease with which the righteous God would execute his 
intended vengeance. 

f If these papers should be so happy as to -outlive their au- 
thor, perhaps it may be needful to inform posterity, that the 
above-mentiosied hints allude to the most terrible, contagions, 
and mortal distemper, raging among the horned cattle , in various 
parts of the kingdom. 

R 



46 CONTEMPLATIONS 

from unseasonable indulgences, and inordinate revellings. -The 
pure stream is their drink ; the simple herb their repast. Nei- 
ther care disturbs their sleep, nor passion inflames their breast. 
Whence then are they visited with such terrible disorders, as 
no prudence can prevent, nor any medicines heal ?— Surely 
these calamities are the weapons of divine displeasure and 
manifest chastisements on an evil generation.* Surely God, 
the " God to whom vengeance beiongeth," has still a contra* 
versy with our sinful lane}. And who can tell/ where the visi- 
tation will end? what a storm may follow these prelusive drops > 
— O i that we may " hear the rod, and who hath appointed 
it!" Taught by these penal effects of our disobedience, may 
we remove the accursed thingf from our tents ; our practises, 
our hearts ! May we turn from all ungodliness, before wrath 
come upon us to the uttermost ; before iniquity prove our ruin ! 

Sometimes, at this hour, another most remarkable sight amu- 
ses the curious, and alarms the vulgar. A blaze of lambent 
meteors is kindled, or some very extraordinary lights are re- 
fracted in the quarters of the North.^-The streams of radiance, 
like legions rushing to the engagement, meet and mingle, in- 
somuch that the air seems to be all conflicting fire. Within a 
while they start from one another ; and, like legions in preci- 
pitate flight, sweep, each a separate way, through the firma- 
ment. Now they are quiescent ; anon they are thrown into a 
quivering motion ; presently the whole horizon is illuminated 
with the glancing flames. Sometimes, with an aspect azvfully 
ludicrous, they represent extravagant and antic vagaries : At 
other times, you would suspect, that some invisible hand was 
playing off the dumb artillery of the skies ; and, by a strange 
expedient, giving us the flash without the roar. 

The villagers gaze at the spectacle, first with wonder, then 
with horror. A general panic seizes the country. Every heart 
throbs, and every face is pale. The crowds that flock together, 
instead of diminishing, increase the dread. They catch con- 
tagion from each other's looks and words ; while fear is in eve- 
iv'eye, and every tongue speaks the language of terror. Some 
see 'hideous shapes ; armies mixing in fierce encounter, or 
fields swimming with blood. Some foresee direful events ; 
states, overthrown, or mighty monarchs tottering on their 
thrones. Others, scared with still more frightful appreheii- 
gitih^ think of nothing but the day of doom. " Sure," says one, 

* Hinc Utis vitulivulgo moriuntur inherbis, 
Et dukes animas plena ad pr^ sepia reddunt. 
Balatu hinc pecorum, et crebris mugitibus amnes, 
Jrentesqvf sonant ripa, collesque supini. V i R o. 

f Josh. vi. 1. 



ON THE NIGHT, 47 

u the unalterable hour is struck, and the end of all things 
come."— e * See," replies another, 5< how the blasted stars look 
wan ! Are not these the signs of the Son of man, coming in the 
clouds of heaven ?" — " Jesus ! prepare* us (cries a third, and 
lifts his eyes in devotion) for the Archangel's trump, and the 
great tribunal." 

If this waving brightness, which plays innocently over our 
heads r be so amazing to multitudes, what inexpressible conster- 
nation must overwhelm unthinking mortal?, when the general 
conflagration commences ' the day, the dreadful day, is ap- 
proaching ; in which the Heavens shall pass away with a great 
noise,* and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth 
also, and all the works that are therein, shall be burnt up. ' 
That mighty hand, which' once opened the windows from on 
high, and broke up the fountains of the great deep, will then 
unlock all the magazines of fire, and pour a second deluge up- 
on the earth. The vengeful flames, kindled by the breath of 
the Almighty, spread themselves from the cerdre to the cir- 
cumference. Nothing can withstand their impetuosity ; noth- 
ing can escape their rage. Universal desolation attends their 
progress. Magnificent palaces, and solemn temples, are laid 
in ashes. Spacious cities, and impregnable towers, are min- 
gled in one smoking mass. Not only the productions of kur 
man art, but the works of 'Almighty pozuer, are fuel for the de- 
vouring element. The everlasting mountains melt, like the 
snows which cover their summit. Even vast oceans serve only 
to augment the inconceivable rapidity and fury of the b!a*e. 
O ! how shall I, or others, stand undismayed amidst the glare 
of a burning tvorld, unless the Lord Jehovah be our de- 
fence ? How shall we be upheld in security, when the globe jt- 

* 2 Pet. iii. 10. I have often thought this verse an eminent 
instance of that kind of beautiful writing, in which the very 
sound bears a sort of significancy ; at least, carries an exact cor- 
respondence with the sense. The original expression is one of 
the hoarsest and deepest words in language. Nothing could be 
more exquisitely adapted to effect the ear, as well as impress tfee 
imagination, with the wreck of Nature, and the crush of a fail- 
ing world. ■ I scarce ever read this clause, but it brings to my 
.mind that admired description in Milton: 

On a sudden open fly, 

With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound, 
TV infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 

Harsh thunder. - Book II. ]. 879. 

It is a pleasing employ, and a very laudable office of frue criti- 
cism to point out these inferior recommendations of the sacred 
classics. Though, I believe, the inspired writers themselves, 
amidst all the elevation and magnificence of their divine ideas, 
disdained a scrupulous attention to such tittle niceties of style. 



48 CONTEMPLATIONS 

self is sinking in a fiery ruin, unless the Rock of Ages be our 
support ? 

Behold ! a new spectacle of wonder ! The moon is making 
her entry on the Eastern sky. See her rising in clouded ma- 
jesty ! opening, as it were, and asserting her original commis- 
sion to rule oxer the night. All grand, stately, but somewhat 
sullied is her aspect. However, she brightens as she advances; 
and grows clearer as she climbs higher : Till, at length, her sil- 
ver loses all its dross ; she unveils her peerless light ; and be- 
comes the beauty of heaven, the glory of the stars ;* delighting 
every eye, and cheering the whole world, with the brightness 
of her appearance, and the softness of her splendors ! — O ! thou 
Queen of the shades ! may it be my ambition to follow this 
thy instructive example ! While others are fond to transcribe 
the fashions of little courts, and to mimic personages of inferior 
state ! be it mine to imitate thy improving purity ! May my 
conduct become more unblemished, and my temper more re- 
fined as I proceed farther and farther in my probationary 
course! May every sordid desire wear away, and every irre- 
gular appetite be gradually lost, as I make nearer approaches 
to the celestial mansions ! — Will not this be a comfortable evi- 
dence, that I too shall shine in my adored Redeemers king- 
dom ? shine with a richer lustre, than that which radiates 
from thy resplendant orb; shine with an unfading lustre, when 
every ray that beams from thy beauteous sphere is totally ex- 
tinguished. 

The day afforded us a variety of entertaining sights. These 
"were all withdrawn, at the accession of darkness. The stars, 
kindly officious, immediately lend us their aid. This served 
to alleviate the frown of night, rather than to recover the ob- 
jects horn their obscurity. A faint ray, scarcely reflected, and 
not from the entire surface of things gave the straining eye a 
\ery imperfect glimpse, such as rather mocked, than satisfied 
vision. — Now the moon is risen, and has collected all her 
beams ; the veil is taken off from the countenance of Nature. 
I see the recumbent flocks: I see the green hedge-rows, though 
without the feathered choristers hopping from spray to spray. 
In short, I see once again the worlds great picture: not indeed 
in its late lively colours, but more delicately shaded, and ar- 
rayed in softer charms, f 

What a majestic scene is here? incomparably grand, and 

* Ecclus. xliii. 9* 

Lucidum c&li decus. Hon. 

| _ Now reigns 

Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light 
Shadowy sets off the face of things.-*-— Mil.ton. 



ON THE NIGHT. 49 

exquisitely fine: — The moon, .like an immense chrystal lamp, 
pendent m the magnificent ceiling of the heavens. The stars, 
like so many thousands of golden tapers, fixed in their azure 
sockets. All pouring their lustre on spacious cities, and lofty 
mountains; glittering on the ocean ; gleaming on the forest ; 
and opening a prospect, wide as the eye can glance, more va- 
rious than fancy can paint* — We are forward to admire the 
performances of human art A landscape, elegantly designed, 
and executed with a masterly hand ; a piece of statuary, which 
seems, amidst all the recommendations of exact proportion, 
and graceful attitude, to soften into flesh, and almost breathe 
with life; these little imitations of Nature, we behold with a 
pleasing surprise. And shall we be less affected, less delight- 
ed, with the inexpressibly noble and completely finished or/;?- 
nal /—The ample dimensions of Raneiaugfis dome; the gay 
illuminations of Fauxkall grove ; 1 should scorn to mention on 
such an occasion, were they not the objects of general admira- 
tion. Shall we be charmed with those puny essays of infinite 
ingenuity ; and touched with no transport, at this stupendous 
display of omnipotent skill ? at the august grandeur, and shin- 
ing stateliness of the firmament ? which forms an alcove for 
ten thousand worlds, and is ornamented with myriads of ever- 
lasting luminaries.— Surely, this must betray, not only.-a total 
ivant of religion, but the most abject littleness of mind* and 
the utmost poverty of genius, 

The' moon is not barely <e an ornament in the high places 
of the LoRD, J> t but of signal service to the inhabitants of the 
earth. ■ How uncomfortable is deep, pitchy, total darkness! 
especially in the long absence of the Winter's sun. Welcome 
therefore, thrice welcome, this auspicious gift of Providence^ 

* As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, 
O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light ; 
When' not a breath disturbes the deep serene, 
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene. 
Around her throne the vivid planets roll, 
And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole : 
O'er the dark trees a yellow verdure shed, 
And tip with silver every mountain's head. 
Then shine the vales ; the rocks in prospect rise j 
A^flood of glory bursts from all the skies ; 
The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight ; 
Eye the blue vault,. and bless the useful night. Iliad r V III. 
I transcribed these lines, because Mr. Pope says, they exhibit, in 
the original, the finest night-piece in poetry. And, if they are 
so beautiful in Homtr's language, who can suspect their suffer- 
ing any disadvantage from the pen of his admirable translate?- ? 
•f^Ecclus. xliii 9. 
K2 



SO CONTEMPLATIONS 

to enliven the nocturnal gloom, and line with silver the raven- 
coloured mantle of night. — How desirable to have our sum- 
mer-evenings illuminated ; that we may be able to tread the 
dewy meads, and breathe the delicious fragrance of our gar- 
dens ; especially, when the sultry heats render it irksome and 
iatigueing, to walk abroad by day. — How cheering to iheshep- 
Mrd the use of this universal lantern ; as he tends his fleecy 
charge, or late consigns them to their hurdled cots ! How com- 
fortable and how advantageous to the mariner, as he ploughs 
the midnight main to adjust the tackling, to explore his way, 
and, under the influence of this beaming sconce, to avoid the 
fatal rock ! — For these, and other beneficial purposes, the hand 
of the Almighty has hung the stately branch on high ; and 
nlled it with a splendour, not confined to a single edifice, or 
commensurate to a particular square, but diffusive as the whole 
extent of the hemisphere. 

The most Faithful of our inferior servants are sometimes tardy 
in their office, sometimes negligent of their duty. But this 
celestial attendant is most exactly punctual, at all the stated 
periods of her ministration. If we chuse to prolong our jour- 
ney, after the sun is gone down ; the moon, during her whole 
increase, is always ready to act in the capacity of a guide. If 
we are inclined to set out very early in the morning ; the moon, 
in her decrease, prevents the dawn, on purpose to offer her 
assistance. And because it is so pleasant a thing for the eyes 
to behold the light, the moon, at her full, by a course of un- 
interrupted waiting, gives us, as it were, a double day. — How 
apparently has the Divine Wisdom interested itself, in provid- 
ing even for the pleasurable accommodation of man! How de- 
sirous, that he should want no piece of commodious furniture, 
no kind of delightful convenience, and, in prosecution of these 
benevolent intentions, has annexed so valuable an appendage 
to the terrestrial globe. — Justly, therefore, does the Psalmist 
celebrate that admirable constitution, which ordained the moon 
and the stars to govern the night, as an instance of rich good- 
ness, and of mercy tvhich endureth for ever.* 

The moon, it is confessed, is no luminous body. All the 
brightness which beautifies her countenance, is originally in 
the" sun, and no more than transmissively in her. That glo- 
rious orb is the parent of day, and the palace of light. — 
From thence the morning-star"^ gilds her horn \\ from thence 

* Psalm exxxvi. 9. 
f I might, to justify this expression, observe, that the planet 
Venus* commonly called the morning-s'ar, is found, by our tele- 
scopes, frequently to appear horned, ; or to have a crescence of 
light, somewhat like the moon, a. little before or after her cou- 



ON THE NIGHT, 51 

the planetary circles are crowned with lustre ; and from thence 
ihQ moon derives all her silver radiance. — It is pleasing to re- 
flect, that such is the case with the all-sufficient Redeemer, and 
his dependant people. — We are replenished from his fulness. 
What do we possess, which we have not received; and what 
can we desire, which we may not expect ; from that never- 
failing source of all good ? He is the Author of our faith, and 
the Former of our graces. In his unspotted life, we see the 
path ; in .his meritorious death, the price ; and in his triumph- 
ant resurrection, the proof, of bliss and immortality. If we 
offend, and fall seven times a-day ; he is the Lord our Peace* 
if we are depraved, and our best deeds very unworthy ; he is 
the Lord our Righteousness. f If we are blind, and even 
brutish, in heavenly knowledge ; he is the Lord our Wisdom :% 
His word dispels the shades; his Spirit scatters the intellectual 
gloom ; his eye looks our darkness into day. In short, we are 
nothing, and " Christ is all." Worse than defective in our- 
selves, " we are complete in him." So that if we shine, it is 
with delegated rays, and borrowed light. We act by a strength, 
and glory in merits, not our own ! — O ! may we be thoroughly 
sensible of our dependance on the Saviour ! May we constantly 
imbibe his propitious beams ; and never by indulging unbelief, 
or backsliding into folly, withdraw our souls from his benign 
influences ! lest' we lose our comfort, and our holiness; as the 
fair ruler of the night loses her splendor, when her urn is turned 
from its fountain,§ and receives no more communications of 
solar effulgence. 

The moon is incessantly varying, either in her aspect, or 

her stages. Sometimes she looks full upon us, and her visage 

is all lustre. Sometimes she appears in profile, and shews us 
only half her enlightened face. Anon a radient crescent but 
just adorns her brow. Soon it dwindles into a slender streak ; 
Till, at length, all her beauty vanishes, and she becomes a 
beamless orb.— - — Sometimes she rises with the descending day 9 
and begins her procession amidst admiring multitudes. Ere 
long she defers her progress till the midnight zvatches } and steals 

unobserved upon the sleeping world. Sometimes she just 

enters the edges of the Western horizon, and drops us a cere- 
monious visit. Within a while, she sets out on her nightly 

junction. But this would be a remark too deep and refined for 
my scheme; which proceeds only upon a superficial knowledge, 
and the most obvious appearances of Nature. 

* Judg. vi 24. t Jer. xxiii. 6. J 1 Cor. i. 30. 
^ Alluding to these truly poetxal lines in Milton : 
Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 
Repairing, in their golden urns draw light. 

Par, Lost, b. VII. I. 364. 



52 CONTEMPLATIONS 

tour, from the opposite regions of the East ; traverses the 
-whole hemisphere ; and never offers to withdraw till the more 
refulgent partner of her sway, renders her presence unneces- 
sary. — In a word, she is, while conversant among us, stiil 
waxing or waning, and " never continueth in one stay." 

Such is the moon ; and such are all sublunary things : ex- 
posed to perpetual vicissitudes. How often, and how soon, 
have the faint echoes of renown slept in silence, or have been 
converted into clamours of obloquy ! The same lips, almost 
•with the same breath, cry Hosannah and Crucify. — -—Have 
not riches confessed their notorious treachery, a thousand and 
a thousand times ? Either melting away, like snow in our 
hands, by insensible degrees ; or escaping, like a winged pris- 
oner from its cage, with a precipitate flight.— Have we not 
known the bridegroom's closet, an antichamber to the tomb ; 
and heard their voice, which so lately pronounced the spark- 
ling pair husband and wife, proclaim an everlasting divorce, 
and seal the decree with that solemn asseveration, " Ashes to 
ashes, dust to dust?" — Our friends, though the medicine of 
Life ; our health, though the balm of Nature ; are a most pre- 
carious possession. How soon may the first become a corpse 
in Our arms ; and how easily is the last destroyed in its vigor I 
— You have seen, no doubt, a set of pretty painted birds 
perching on your trees, or sporting in your meadows. You 
was pleased with the lovely visitants, that brought beauty on 
their wings, and melody in their throats. But could you in- 
sure the continuance of this agreeable entertainment ? No, 
truly. At the least disturbing noise, at the least terrifying ap- 
pearance, they start from their seats ; they mount the skies ; 
and are gone in an instant, are gone for ever. Would you 
choose to have a happiness, which bears date with their arrival, 
and expires at their departure? If you could not be content 
with a portion, enjoyable only through such a fortuitous term, 
not of years, but ©f moments ; O ! take up with nothing earth- 
ly: set" your affections on things above; there alone is ■" no 
variableness" or shadow of turning." 

JOB is not a more illustrious pattern of patience, than an 

eminent exemplification of this remark. View him in his 

private state He heaps up silver as the dust, he washes his 
steps in butter, and the rock pours him out rivers of oil. — — 
View him in his public character. Princes revere his dignity ; 
the aged listen to his wisdom; every eye beholds him with 

delight ; every tongue loads him with blessings. View him 

in his domestic circumstances. On one hand, he is defended 
by a troop of son? ; °n the other, adorned with a train of 
daughters ; and on all sides surrounded by " a very great 
houshold." Never was human felicity so consummate : ne- 
ver was disastrous revolution so sudden, The lightning, which 



ON THE NIGHT. 53 

consumed his cattle, was not more terrible, and scarce more 
instantaneous. The joyful parent is bereft of his offspring, 
and his " children are buried in death." The man of affluence 
is stripped of his abundance ; and he who was cloathed in scar-* 
let, embraces the dunghill. The venerable patriarch is the 
derision of scoundrels ; and the late darling of an indulgent 
Providence, is become a " brother to dragons, a companion 
of owls." — Nor need we go back to former ages, for proofs of 
this afflicting truth, in our times, in all times, the wheel con- 
tinues the same incessant whirl. And frequently those who 
are triumphing to-day in the highest elevations of joy, to-mor- 
row are bemoaning the instability of mortal affairs, in the very 
depths of misery.* -Amidst so much fluctuation and uncer- 
tainty, how wretched is the condition, which has no anchor to 
the soul, sure and stedfast ! May thy loving kindness, O God, 
be our present treasure ! and thy future glory, our reversionary 
inheritance ! Then shall our happiness not be like the full-os bed 
moon, which is, " a light that decreaseth in its perfection/* 
but like the sun, when he goeth forth in his strength, and 
knoweth no other change but that of shining more and more 
unto the perfect day; 

Methinks, in this ever-varying sphere, I see a representa- 
tion, not only of our temporal advantages, but also of our spir- 
itual accomplishments. Such, I am sure, is what the kind 
partiality of a friend would call my righteousness : A«d such, 
I am apt to suspect, f is the righteousness ot every man living. 

* I believe I may venture to apply what the Tamanite says 
of the affairs of the wicked, to all sublunary things, as a true 
description of their very great instability. Job xxii. 16. Their 
foundation (or what they reckon their most solid and stable pos- 
session) is a flood poured out. — Which is one of the boldest ima- 
ges, and m*st poetical beauties, I ever met with in any lan- 
guage, sacred o* profane. In order to have a tolerable concep- 
tion of the image, and a taste of its beauty, you must suppose a 
torrent of waters, rushing in broken cataracts, and with impetu- 
ous rapidity, from a steep and craggy mountain. Then ima- 
gine yourself an ediflce y built upon the surge of this roiling pre- 
cipice ; which has no other basis than one of those headlong 
whirling waves. Was there ever such a representation of tran- 
sitory prosperity., tending with inconceivable swiftness unto 
ruin ? Yet such is every form of human felicity, that is not 
grounded on Jesus, and a participation of his merits, who is 
the Rock of Ages ; on Jesus and his image formed in our hearts, 
which is the hope of glory. 

•f I would not be understood, as measuring, in this respect, 
ethers by myself,- but as taking my estimate from the unerring 
standard of scripture. And indeed, proceeding on this evidences 



54 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Now we exercise it, in some few instances, in some little life 
grees. Anon sin revives, and leads our souls into a transient, 
though unwilling captivity. Now we are meek t but soon a 
ruffling incident intervenes, and turns our composure into a 
fretful disquietude* Now we are humble ; soon we reflect up- 
on some inconsiderable or imaginary superiority over others, 
and a sudden elatement swells our minds. Now r , perhaps, we 
possess a clean heart, and are warm with holy love. But, O ! 
how easily is the purity of our affections sullied ! How soon the 
fervour of our gratitude cooled ! And is there not some thing 
amiss even in our best moments? Something to be ashamed of, 
in all we are ; something to beYepented of in ail we do ? 

With what gladness, therefore, and adoring thankfulness, 
should we " submit to the righteousness of our lt incarnate 
God ;'* artdf €ceive as a divine gift what cannot be acquired 
by human works!* — A writer of the first distinction, and ni- 
cest discernment, styles the obedience of our glorious Surety, 
an everlasting righteousness ;\ such as was subject to no inter- 
ruption, nor obscured by the leasKbiemish ; but proceeded al- 
ways in the same uniform tenor of the most spotless perfec- 
tion. This righteousness in another sense answers the Pro- 
phet's exalted description ; as its beneficial and sovereign effi- 
cacy knows no end ; but lasts through alt our life : lasts in the 
trying hour of death ; lasts at the decisive day of judgment ; 
lasts through every generation ; and will last to all eternity. 

Sometimes I have seen thatresplendant globe stripped of her 
radiance; or, according to the emphatical language of scrip- 
ture, " turned into blood." The earth, interposing with its 

supported by this authority, I might have ventured farther than 
a bare suspicion. For M there is not a just man upon earth, that 
doth good, and sinneth not," says the Spirit of inspiration by So* 
iomon fJEcci. vii. 22.) — Nay, such is the purity, and so extensive 
are the demands of the divine law, that the apostle makes a still 
more humbling acknowledgment ; " In many things we offend 
«//,'* Cjfatn. iii. 2.) — And the unerring Teacher, who most tho- 
roughly knew our frame, directs the most advanced, most estab- 
lished, and most watchful Christians, to pray daily for the for- 
giveness of their daily trespasses. — To which testimonies, I beg 
leave to add an elegant passage from the Canticles ; because it 
not only expresses the sentiment of the paragraph, but illus- 
trates it by the very same similitude. She (the church) is fair 
as the moon ; clear as the sun. Fair as the moon, the lesser and 
changeable light, in her sancttfication ; clear as the sun, the 
greater and invariable luminary in her justification : The inher- 
ent holiness of believers being imperfect, and subject to many 
inequalities ; while their imputed righteousness is every way 
complete, and constantly like itself. Cant. vi. 10. 

* Rom. v. 17.— x. 3. t Dan « ix - 24> 



ON THE NIGHT. $$ 

opake body, intercepted the solar rays, and cast its own gloomy 
shadow on the moon. The malignant influence gained upon 
her sickening orb ; extinguished, more and more, the feeble 
remainders of light ; till at length, like one in a deep swoon, 
no comeliness was left in her countenance ; she was totally 
overspread with darkness.-— At this juncture, what a multitude 
of eyes were gazing upon the rueful spectacle ! Even of those 
eyes, which disregard the Empress of the Night, or beheld her 
with indifference, when, robed in glory, and riding in her tri- 
umphant chariot, she shed a softer day through the nations. 
But now, under these circumstances of disgrace, they watch 
her motions with the most prying attention* In every place, 
her misfortune is the object ot general observation ; and . the 
prevailing topic of discourse, in every company. 

Is it not thus with regard to persons of eminence, in their 
respective spheres. 1 Kings at the head of their subjects ; No- 
bles surrounded with their dependants ; after names of so much 
grandeur may I be allowed to add ? Ministers labouring among 
their people,* are each in a conspicuous station. Their con- 
duct in its minutest step, especially in any miscarriage, will be 
narrowly surveyed, and critically scanned* Can there be a 
louder call, to ponder the paths of their feet, and to be particu- 
larly jealous over all their ways ?— -Those who move in inferior 
life, may grossly offend ; and little alarm be given, perhaps 
no notice taken. Rut it is not to be expected, that the least 
slip in their carriage, the least flaw in their character, will pass 
undiscovered. Malice with her eagle-eyes, will be sure to dis- 
cern them ; while Censure, with her shrill trumpet, will be as 
far from concealing them; as Calumny, with her treacherous 
whispers, from extenuating them. A planet may sink below 
the horizon ; or a star, tor several months, withdraw its shin- 
ing;- and scarce one in ten thousand perceive the loss. But, if 
the moon suffers a transient eclipse, almost half the world are 
spectators of her dishonour. 

_ Very different was the case, when, at this late hour, I have 
taken a solitary walk on the Western cliffs. At the foot of the 
steep mountain, the sea, all clear and smooth, spread itself into 
an immense plain, and held a watery mirror to the skies. Jnfl- 
nite heights above, the firmament stretched its azure expanse, 
bespangled with unnumbered stars, and adorned with the 
moon, " walking in brightness."f She seemed to contemplate 
herself, with a peculiar pleasure ; while the transparent surface 
both received, and returned her silver image. Here, instead 
of being covered with sackcloth, she shone with double lustre ; 
or rather, with a lustre multiplied, in proportion to the number 
of beholders, and their various situations. 

* Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill 
cannot be hid. t J°b xxxi, 26. 



56 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Such, methinks, is the effect of an exemplary behaviour, in 
persons of an exalted rank. Their course, as it is nobly distin- 
guished, so it will be happily influential. Others will catch 
the diffusive ray ; and be ambitious to resemble a pattern, so 
attracting, so commanding. Their amiable qualities will not 
terminate in themselves, but we shall see them reflected from 
their families, their acquaintance, their retainers. Just as we 
may now behold another moon,* trembling in the stream, 
glittering in the canal, and displaying its lovely impression 
on every collection of waters. 

The moon, philosophy says, is a sort of sovereign over the 
great deep. Her orb, like a royal sceptre, sways the ocean, 
and actuates the fluid realms. It swells the tides, and perpet- 
uates the reciprocal returns of ebb and flow. By which means, 
the liquid element purges off its filth, and is preserved from be- 
ing putrified itself, and from poisoning the world. — Is the 
moon thus operative on the vast abyss? And shall not the faith 
of eternal and infinite delights to come, be equally efficacious 
on this soul of mine !— Far above her argent fields, are treasures 
of happiness, unseen by mortal eye, by mortal ear unheard, 
and unconceived by any human imagination. In that desira- 
ble world, the most distinguished and exalted honours also are 
conferred; in comparison with which the thrones and diadems 
of earthly monarchs are empty pageants and childish toys.— 
Yonder arch of sapphire, with all its spangles of gold, is but 
the floor of those divine abodes. What then are the apart- 
ments ; what is the palace ? How bright with glories ; how rich 
with bliss ! 

O ! ye mansions of blessedness ; ye beauties of my Father's 
kingdom ; which far outshine these lamps of the visible heaven ; 
transmit your sweet and winning invitations to my heart. At- 
tract and refine all my affections. Withdraw them from Stag- 
nating on the sordid shores of flesh ; never surfer them to settle 
upon the impure lees of sense ; but impress them with emotions 

of restless desire after sublime and celestial joys : Joys, 

that will proceed, still proceed in a copious and everlasting 
flow, when seas shall cease to roll : — Joys, that will charm 
every faculty with unimaginable pleasure ; when the moon, 
with her waxing splendors, shall cheer our sight no more. 

Enough for the present evening. My thoughts have been suf- 
ficiently exercised, and my steps begin to be attended with 
weariness. Let me obey the admonition of Nature ; and give 

respite to my meditations, slumber to my eyes. But stay. 

Shall I retire to the bed of s^eep, with as much inattention, 

as the brutes to their sordid lair ? Are no acknowledgments due 

to that Divine Being, who is the support of mv life, and the 

length of my days?" Have I no farther need of his protecting 

* Plendet trenulo, aub famine pemtus. Virg. 



» 



ON THE NIGHT. 57 



care ; no more occasion for the blessings of his goodness ?« 

Lepidus, perhaps, may laugh at the bended knee ; and have 
a thousand darts of raillery ready to discharge on the practice 
of devotion* The wits, 1 know, are unmercifully severe on 
what they call the drudgery of prayer, and the fantastical rant 
of praise. These they leave to the' illiterate labourer, and the 
mean mechanic ; or treat them, with a contemptuous sneer, as 
the parson's ignoble trade. 

Is it then an instance of superstitious blindness, to distin- 
guish ; or of whimsical zeal, to celebrate, the most surperemi* 
nent excellency and merit ? Is it an ungraceful business, or 
does it answer a grovelling disposition, to magnify goodness 
transcendantly rich and diffusive ?- — -What can be so truly 
becoming a dependant state, as to pay our adoring homage to 
the Author of all perfection, and profess our devoted allegiance 
to the Supreme Almighty Governor of the universe? — Can 
any thing more significantly bespeak an ingenious temper s or 
administer a more real satisfaction to its finest feelings, than 
the exercises of penitential devotion: by which we give vent 
to an honest anguish, or melt into filial sorrow, for our insen- 
sibility to the best of friends, for our disobedience to the best 
of parents ? In a word, can there be a more sublime pleasure, 
than to dwell, in fixed contemplation, on the beauties of the 
Eternal mind ; the amiable Original of all that is fair, grand, 
and harmonious ; the beneficent Giver of all that is convenient, 
comfortable, and useful ?-— Can there be a more advantageous 
employ, than to present our requests to the Father of mercies ; 
opening our minds to the irradiations of his wisdom, and all 
the faculties of our souls to the communications of his grace ? 
It is strange, unaccountably strange, that the notions of 
dignity in sentiment, and the pursuit of refined enjoyment, 
should ever be disunited from devotion : That persons who 
make pretensions to an improved taste, and exalted genius, 
should neglect this most ennobling intercourse with the wisest 
and best of beings, the inexhaustible source of honour and joy. 

Shall I be deterred from approaching this source of the pur- 
est delight ? Deterred from pursuing this highest improvement 
of my nature ? Deterred from all by a formidable banter, or 
confuted by one irrefragable smile ? — -No : Let the moon, in 
her resplendent sphere ; and yonder pole, with all its starry 
train ; witness, if I be silent even or morn ; if I refrain to 
kindle in my heart, and breathe from my lips, the reasonable 
incense of praise ; praise to that great and glorious God, who 
formed the earth, and built the skies ; who poured from his 
hand the watery world, and shed the all-surrounding air abroad. 
■— ™ <f Thou also madest the night, Maker omnipotent ! and thou, 
I the day ! which I, though less than the least of all thy mercies, 
have passed in safety, tranquility and comfort, — When I was 
' lost in the extravagance of dreams, or lay immersed in the 

s 



58 Contemplations 

insensibility of sleep, thy hand recovered me from the tempo* 
rary lethargy. Thy hand set a new, a delicately fine edge 
on all my blunted senses ; and strung my sinews with recruited 
vigour. When my thoughts were benumbed and stupified, 
thy quickening influence roused them into activity ; whew they 
were disconcerted and wild, thy regulating influence reduced 
them into order: Refitting me at once, to relish the innocent 
entertainments of an animal, and to enjoy the sublime gratifi- 
cations of a rational capacity.- When darkness covered the 

creation, at thy command, the sun aro<e ; painted the flowers, 
and distinguished every object : gave light to my feet; and gave 
nature, with all her beautiful scenes, to my eye.- — -To thee, O 
thou God of my strength ! I owe the continuance of my being, 
and the vivacity of my constitution. By thy sacred order, with- 
out any consciousness of mine, the wheels of life move, and the 
crimson fountain plays. Over-ruled by thy exquisite skill, it 
transforms itself, by the nicest operations of an inexplicable 
kind of chemistry, into a variety of the finest secretions ; which 
glide into the muscles, and swell them for action ; or pour them- 
selves into the fluids, and repair their incessant decay ; which 
cause cheerfulness to sparkle in the eye, and health to bloom 
in the cheek. 

" Disasterous accidents, injurious to the peace of my mind, 
or fatal to the welfare of my body, beset my paths. But thy 
faithfulness and truth, like an impenetrable shield, guarded me 
all around. Under this divine protection, I walked secure, 
amidst legions of apparent perils ; and passed unhurt, through 
a far greater multiplicity of unseen evils. Not one of my bones 
was broken ; not a single shaft grazed upon my ease ; even 
when the €ye that watched over me, saw, in its wide survey, 
thousands falling beside me, in irrecoverable ruin ; and ten 
thousands deeply wounded on my right hand. — If sickness has, 
at any time, saddened my chamber, or pain harrowed my flesh, 
it was a wholesome discipline, and a gracious severity. The 
chastisement proved a sovereign medicine, to cure me of an 
immoderate fondness for this imperfect troublesome state, and 
to quicken my desires after the unembittered enjoyments of my 
eternal home. Has not thy munificence, unwearied and wn* 
bounded, spread my table ; and furnished it with the finest 
wheat ; replenished it with marrow and fatness ? while Tem- 
perance sweetened the bowl ; Appetite seasoned the dish ; 

contentment and gratitude crowned the repast.- Has not thy 

kindness, O God of the families of Israel ! preserved my af- 
fectionate relations ; who study, by their tender offices, to 
soften every care, and heighten every joy ? Has not thy kind* 
ness given me valuable friends ; whose presence is a cordial, 
to cheer me in a dejected hour ; and whose conversation mill* 
gles improvement with delight? 

" When sin lay disguised amidst flowery scenes of pleasure ; 
enlightened by thy wisdom, I discerned the latent mischief ; 



ON THE NIGHT. 59 

made resolute by thy grace, I shunned the luscious bane. If, 
through the impulse of sensuality, or the violence of passion, I 
have been hurried into the snare, and stung by the serpent, thy 
faithful admonitions have recalled the foolish wanderer ; while 
the blood of thy Son has healed his deadly wounds. — Some, 
no doubt, have been cut off in the midst of their iniquities ; and 
transmitted from the thrillings of polluted joy, to tiie agonies 
of eternal despair. Whereas, I have been distinguished by 
long-suffering mercy ; and, instead of lifting up my eyes in 
torments, to behold a heaven irrecoverably lost; 1 may lift 
them up under the pleasing views of being admitted, ere long, 
into those abodes of endless felicity. — In the mean time, thou 
hast vouchsafed me the revelation of thy will; the influences 
of thy Spirit, and abundance of the most effectual aids, for 
advancing in knowledge, and growing in godliness ; for be- 
coming more conformable to thy image, and more meet for 
thy presence ; for tasting the pleasures of religion, and securing 
the riches of eternity. 

'* How various is thy beneficence, O thou Lover of Souls j 
It has unsealed a thousand sources of good ; opened a thousand 
avenues of delight ; and heaped blessings upon me, with a 
ceaseless liberality. If I should attempt to declare them, they 
would be more than the starry host, which glitter in this un- 
clouded sky ; more than the dewy gems, which will adorn the 
face of the morning. 

" And shall I forget the GOD of my salvation, the Author 
of all my mercies ? Rather let my pulse forget to beat ! — Shall 
I render him no expressions of thankfulness ? Then might all 
Nature reproach my ingratitude. — Shall I rest satisfied with 
the bare acknowledgment of my lips ? No : Let my life be 
vocal, and speak his praise, in that only genuine, that most 
emphatical language— the language of devout obedience.— 
Let the bill be drawn upon my very heart; let ail my affec- 
tions acknowledge the draught ; and let the whole tenor of my 
actions, in time and through eternity, be continually paying 
the debt — the ever-pleasing, ever-growing debt of duty, vene- 
ration, and love. 

" And can I, O thou guide of my goings, and guardian of 

all my interests — can I distrust such signal, such experienced 

goodness? thou hast been my helper, through all the busy 

scenes of day : Therefore under the shadoiv of thy wings will 1 

repose myself, during the darkness, the danger, and death-like 

inactivity of the night. Whatever defilement 1 have contract* 

i ed, wash it thoroughly away in redeeming blood ; and \q{ nei- 

| ther the sinful stain, nor the sinful inclination, accompany me 

I to my couch ! — Then shall 1 lay me down in peace, and take 

my rest ; cheerfully referring it to thy all-wise determination, 

I whether I shall open my eyes ill this world, or awake in the 

unknown regions of another," 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

ON THE 



There duel's a noble pathos in the skies, 
IFhich xoarms our passions, proselytes our hearts. 
How eloquently si ines the glowing pole ! 
With what authority it gives its charge, 
Remonstrating; great truths in style sublime ! 

Night Thoughts, No. IX. 



THIS evening I exchange the nice retreats of Art, for the 
noble theatre of Nature. Instead of measuring my steps 
under the covert of an arbor, let me range along the summit of 
this gently-rising hill. There is no need of the leafy shade, 
since the sun has quitted the horizon, and withdrawn his 
scorching beams. But see, how advantages and inconvenien- 
ces are usually linked, and chequer our affairs below J If the 
annoying heat ceases, the landscape and its pleasing scenes, are 
also removed.— The majestic castle, and the lowly cottage, are 
vanished together. — 1 have lost the aspiring mountain, and its 
russet brow : I look round, but to no purpose, for the humble 
vale and its flowery lap The plains whitened with flocks, and 
the heath yellow with furze, disappear. The advancing night 
has wrapt in darkness the long-extended forest, and drawn her 
mantle over the windings of the silver stream. I no longer be- 
hold that luxuriant fertility, in the fields; that wild magnifi- 
cence of prospect, and endless variety of images, which have 
so often touched me with delight, and struck me with awe 
from this commanding eminence. 

The loss, however, is scarcely to be regretted ; since it is 
amply compensated by the opening beauties of the sky. Here 
I enjoy a free view ofthe whole hemisphere ; without any ob- 
stacle from below, to confine the exploring eye; or any cloud 
from above, (o overca>t the spacious concave. It is true, the 
lively vermillion, which so lately streaked the chambers of the 
West, is all faded. But the planets, one after another, light up 
their lampr* the stars advance in their glittering train ; a thou- 
sand and a thousand luminaries shine forth in successive splen- 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 61 

dors ; and the whole firmament is kindling into the most beau- 
tiful glow. The blueness of the aether, heightened by the season 
of the year, and still more enlivened by the absence of the 
moon, gives those gems of Heaven the strongest lustre. 

One pleasure more, the invading gloom has not btcn able to 
snatch from my sense. The night rather improves, than des- 
troys the fragrance which exhales from the blooming beans. 
With these the sides of this sloping declivity are lined ; and 
with these the balmy zephyrs perfume their wings. Does 
Arabia, from all her spicy groves, breathe a more liberal, or a 
more charming gale of sweets ? And, what is a peculiar recom- 
mendation of the rural entertainments presented in our happy 
land, they are alloyed by no apprehensions of danger. No 
poisonous serpent lurks under the blossom; nor any ravenous 
beast. lies ready to start from the thicket.— But i wander from 
a far more exalted subject. My thoughts, like my affections, 
are too easily diverted from the heavens, and detained by infe- 
rior objects. Away, my attention, from these little blandish- 
ments of the earth, since all the glories of the sky invite thy 
regard. 

We have taken a turn among the tombs, and viewed the 
solemn memorials of the dead, in order to learn the vanity of 
mortal things, aad to break their soft enchantment. — We have 
surveyed the ornaments of the garden ; not that the heart 
might be planted in the parterre, or take root among the flow- 
ery race; but that these delicacies of a day might teach us to 
aspire after a better paradise, where beauty never fades, and 
delight is ever in the bloom. — A third time we lighted the 
candle of meditation, and sought for wisdom, not in the crowd- 
ed city, or wrangling schools, but in the silent and lonely w T alks 
of ancient Night** — Let us once more indulge the contempla-* 
tive vein, and raise our speculations to those sublimer works of 
the great Creator, which the regions of the sky contain, and 
this dusky hour unveils.f 

If we have discerned the touches of his pencil, glowing in 
the colours of Spring ; if we have seen a simple of his benefi- 
cence exhibited in the stores of Nature, and a ray of his bright- 
ness beaming in the blaze of day ; what an infinitely richer 
field for the display of his perfections are the Heavens ! The 
heavens, in the most emphatical manner, declare the glory of 
God. The heavens are nobly eloquent of the Deity, and the 

* Referring to the several subjects of the three preceeding 

essays. 

f Night opes the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe, 
Which gives those venerable scenes full weight, 
And deep reception in th' extended heart. 

JSTigbt Thoughts, No. IX. 
S 2 



62 CONTEMPLATIONS 

most magnificent heralds of their Maker's praise. They speak 
to the whole universe ;for there is neither speech so barbarous, 
but their language is understood ; nor nation so distant, but 
their voices are heard among them. * — Let me then, in this 
solemn season, formed for thoughts, and a calm intercourse 
with Heaven ; let me listen to their silent lectures. Perhaps, 
I may receive such impressive manifestations of " the Eternal 
Power and Godhead," as may shed religion on my soul, while 
I walk the solitary shades ; *\nd may be a tutelary friend to 
my virtue, when the call of business, and the return of light, 
expose me again to the inroads of temptation. 

The Israelites, instigated by phrenzy rather than devotion, 
worshipped the host of heaven. And the pretenders to judi- 
cial astrology, talk of I know not what mysterious efficacy, 
in the different aspect of the stars, or the various conjunction 
and opposition of the planets — Let those who are unacquaint- 
ed with the sure word of revelation, give ear to these sons of 
delusions, and dealers in deceit. For my part, it is a question 
of indifference to me, whether the constellations shone with 
smiles, or loured in frowns, on the hour of my nativity. Let 
Christ be my guard ; and, secure in such a protection, I 
would laugh at their impotent menaces. Let Christ be my 
guide ; and I shall scorn to ask, as well as despair of receiv- 
ing, any predictory information from such senseless masses.— 
'Wjiat ! ".shall the living seek to the dead?"f Can these bo- 
dies advertize me of future events, which are unconscious of 
their own existence ? Shall I have recourse to dull unintelligent 
matter, when I may apply to that all-wise Being; who, with 
one comprehensive glance, distinctly views whatever is lodged 
in the bosom of immensity, or forming in the womb of futu- 

~^*ity? Never, never will I search for any intimations of my 

jaie, but often trace my Creator's feotsteps,X in yonder starry 

* Psalm xix. 2. t Isaiah viii. 19. 

^ M It is most becoming," says a great author, " suchimper* 
feet creatures as we are, to contemplate the works of GOD ; 
witrfthis design, that we may discern the manifestations of wis- 
dom in them ; and thereby excite in ourselves those devout af- 
fections, and that superlative respect, which is the very essence 
of praise, as it is a reasonable and moral service." Aberne- 
thy on the Attributes. — And indeed if we are sincerely disposed 
to employ ourselves in this excellent, this delightful duty of 
praising the infinite Creator ; the means and the motives are both 
at hand. His works, in a wonderful and instructive variety, 
present themselves with pregnant manifestations of the most 
transcendant excellencies of their Maker. They pour their evi- 
dence from all quarters, and into all the avenues of the mind. 
They invite us, especially in the magnificent system of the uni- 
verse, to contemplate — counsel consumately wise, and execution 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 63 

plains. In the former case, they would be teachers of lies; 
in the latter, they are oracles of truth. In this, therefore, this 
sense only I profess myself the pupil of the stars. 

The vulgar are apprehensive of nothing more, than a mul- 
titude of bright spangles dropt over the aetherial blue. They 
have no higher notion of these fine appearances, than that they 
are so many golden studs, with which the empyrean arch is 
decorated. — -But studious minds, that carry a more accurate 
and strict enquiry among the celestial bodies, bring back ad- 
vices of a most astonishing impott. Let me just recollect the 
most material of these stupendous discoveries, in order to fur- 
nish out proper subjects for contemplation. And let the un- 
learned remember, that the scene I am going to display, is the 
workmanship of that incomprehensible God, who is n per- 
fect in knowledge and mighty in power f whose name, whose 
nature, and all whose operations, are " great and marvellous;" 
who summons into being, with equal ease, a single grain, or 
ten thousand worlds. — To this if we continually advert, the 
affections, though they will certainly excite our admiration, 
neecj not transcend our belief. 

The earth is, in fact, a round body ; however it may seem, 
in some parts, to be sunk into vales, and raised into hills ;* 
in other parts, to be spread into a spacious plain, extending to 
the confines of the Heavens, or terminated by the waters of 

the ocean. We may fancy, that it has deep foundations, 

and rests upon some prodigiously solid basis. But it is pendent 
m the wide transpicuous aether, without any visible cause to 
uphold it from above, or support it from beneath. — — It may 
seem to be sedentary in its attitude, and motionless in its situa- 

inimitably perfects— power, to which nothing is impossible ; and 

goodness., which extendeth to all, and endureth fo? ever. To 

give, not a full display, but only some slight strictures of these 
glorious truths, is the principal scope of the following remarks. 

* A learned writer, I think Dr. Berham, has somewhere an 
observation to this purpose : — That the loftiest summits of hills 
and the most enormous ridges of mountains, are no real objec- 
tion to the globular or round form of the earth. Because, how- 
ever they may render it, to our limited sight, vastly uneven and 
protuberant; yet they bear no more proportion to the entire 
surface of the terraqueous ball, than a. particle of dust casually 
dropt on the mathematician's globe, bears to its whole circum- 
ference. Consequently, the rotund figure is no more destroyed 
in the former case, than in the latter. On the same principle, 
1 "have not thought it necessary, to take any notice of the com- 
paratively small difference between the polar and equatorial dia- 
meter of the earth. 



64 CONTEMPLATIONS 

tion. But it is continually sailing* through the depths of the 
sky ; and, in the space of twelve months, finishes the mighty 
voyage ; which periodical rotation produces the seasons, and 

completes the year. As it proceeds in the annual circuit, it 

spins upon its own centre ; and turns its sides alternately to the 
fountain of light. By which means, the day dawns' in one 
hemisphere; while the night succeeds in the other. Without 
this expedient, one part of its regions would, during half the 
great revolution, be scorched with excessive heat, or languish 
under an uninterrupted glare : While the other, exposed to the' 
contrary extremes, would be frozen to ice, and buried under a 
long oppression of dismal and destructive darkness. 

I cannot forbear taking notice, that, in this compound mo- 
tion of the earth, the one never interferes with the other, but 
both are perfectly compatible. Is it not thus with the precepts 
of religion, and the needful affairs of the present life ; not ex- 
cepting even the innocent gratifications of our appetites ? — 
Some, I believe, are apt to imagine, that they must renounce 
society, if they devote themselves to CHRIST ; and abandon 
all the satisfactions of this world, if they once become zealous 
candidates for the felicity of another. — But this is a very mis- 
taken notion, or else a very injurious representation, of the 
doctrine which is according to godliness. It was never intend- 
ed to drive men into desarts; but to lead them through the 
peaceful and pleasant paths of wisdom, into the blissful regions 
of life eternal. It was never intended to strike off the wheels 
of business, or cut in sunder the sinews of industry ; but ra- 
ther, to make men industrious from a principle of conscience, 
not from the instigations of avarice ; that so they may promote 
their immortal happiness, even while they provide for their 
temporal maintenance. It has no design to extirpate our pas- 
sions, but only to restrain their irregularities : neither would it 
extinguish the delights of sense, but prevent them from evapo- 
rating into vanity, and subsidirar into gall. A person may 

be cheerful among his friends, and yet joyful in GOD. He 
may taste the sweets of his earthly estate ; and, at the same 
time, cherish his hopes of a nobler inheritance in Heaven. 
The trader may prosecute the demands of commerce, without 
neglecting to negociate the affairs of his salvation. The tear- 
rior may wear his sword ; may draw, in a just cause, that 
murderous weapon ; yet be a gooj soldier of JESUS CH RIST, 
and obtain the crown that fadeth not away. The parent may 
lay up a competent portion for his children, and not forfeit his 

title to the treasures, either of grace or of glory. So far is 

Christianity from obstructing any valuable interest, or with- 

* With what amazing speed this vessel (if I ma/ carry on the 
allusion) filled with a multitude of nations, and freighted with all 
their possessions, makes her way through the <etherial space. 



ON THE SPARRY-HEAVENS. &£ 

holding any real pleasure; that it improves the one, and ad- 
vances the other. — Just as the diurnal and annual motions are 
so far from clashing, that they entirely accord ; and instead 
of being destructive of each other, by mutually blending their 
effects, they give proportion and harmony to time, fertility, 
and innumerable benefits to nature. 

To us who dwell on its surface, the earth is by far the most 
extensive orb, that our eyes can any where behold. It is also 
clothed with verdure; distinguished by trees; and adorned 
with a variety of beautiful decorations. Whereas, to a spec- 
tator placed on one of the planets, it wears an uniform aspect ; 
looks all luminous, and no larger than a spot. To beings, 

who dwell at stiil greater distances, it entirely disappears. 

That which we call, alternately, the morning and the evening 
star ; as in one part of her orbit, she rides foremost in the pro^ 
cession of night ; in the other, ushers in, and anticipates the 
dawn; is a, planetary zvorld. Which, with, the four others, 
that so wonderfully vary their mystic dance, are in themselves 
dark bodies, and shine only by reflection; have fields, and 
seas, and skies of their own ; are furnished with all accommo- 
dations for animal subsistence, and are supposed to be abodes 
of intellectual life. All which, together with this our earthly 
habitation, are dependant on that srand dispenser of divine 
munificence, the sun ; receive their light from the distribution 
of his rays, and derive their comforts from his benign %gency. 

The sun, which seems to perform its daily stages through 
the sky, is, in this respect,* fixed and immoveable. It is the 
great axle of heaven, about which the globe we inhabit, and 

other more spacious orbs, wheel their stated courses. The 

sun, though seemingly smaller than the dial it illuminates, is 
abundantly largerf than this whole earth ; on which so many 
lofty mountains rise, and such vast oceans roil. A line, ex- 
tending from side to side, through the centre of that resplend- 
ant orb, would measure more than eight hundred thousand 
miles : A girdle formed to go round its circumference, would 
require a length of millions : Were its solid contents to be esti- 
mated, the account would overwhelm our understanding, and 
be almost beyond the power of language to express.^ Are 

* I say, in this respect } that I may not seem to forget, or ex* 
elude, the revolution of the sun round its own axis. 

f A hundred thousand times, according to tke lowest reckon- 
ing. Sir Isaac Newton computes the sun to be 900,000 times 
bigger than the earth. Religious Pbilosoph. page 749. 

\ Dr. DESHAji, after having calculated the dimensions of 
the planets, adds, " Amazing as these masses are, they are all 
far outdone by that stupendous glabe of light, the sun ; which, 
as it is the fountain of light and heat to all the planets about it, 



66 CONTEMPLATIONS 

>ve startled at these reports of philosophy ? Are we ready to 
cry out in a transport of surprise, How "mighty is the Being, 
who kindled such a prodigious fire ; and keeps alive, from age 

to age, such an enormous mass of flame.- Let us attend our 

philosophic guides, and we shall be brought acquainted with 
speculations more enlarged and more amazing. 

This sun, with all attendant planets, is but a very little part 
of the grand machine of the universe. Every star, though, in 
appearance, no bigger than the diamond, that glitters upon a 
lady's ring, is really a vast globe, like the sun in size, and in 
giory, no less spacious, no less luminous, than the radiant 
source of our day. So that every star, is not barely a world, 
but the centre of a magnificent system ; has a retinue of worlds, 
irradiated by its beams, and revolving round its attractive in- 
fluence. Ail which are lost to our sight, in unmeasurable wilds 

of a?ther. That the stars appear like so many diminutive, 

and scarce distinguishable points, is owing to their immense and 
inconceivable distance. Immense and inconceivable indeed it 
is; since a ball, shot from a loaded cannon, and flying, with 
unabated rapidity, must travel, at this impetuous rate, almost 
seven hundred thousand years,* before it could reach the 
nearest of those twinkling luminaries. 

Can any thing be more wonderful than these observations ) 
x es, the re «£e truths far more stupendous ; there are scenes 
far more extensive. As there is no end of the Almighty Ma- 
ker's greatness ; so no imagination can set limits to his creating 
hand. — Could you soar beyond the moon, and pass through 
all the planetary choir ; could you wing your way to the highest 
apparent star, and take your stand on one of those loftiest pin- 
nacles of Heaven ; you would there see other skies expanded ; 
another sun, distributing his inexhaustible beams by day ; other 
stars, that gild the horrors of the alternate night ; and other,\ 
perhaps nobler systems, established in unknown profusion, 

through the boundless dimensions of space, Nor does the 

dominion of ihe universal Sovereign terminate there. Even 
at the end of this vast tour, you would find yourself advanced 

so doth it far surpass them all in its bulk : Its apparent diame- 
ter being computed at 822,148 English miles, its ambit at 
2,582,873 miles, and its solid contents at 290,971,000,000,000, 
000," Astro-lheol book I. chap. 2. 

* See Religious Philosopher, page 819. 
t See Astro-Theology, book II. chap, ii.— There the author, 
having assigned various reasons to support this theory of our 
modem astronomers, adds — " Besides the fore-mentioned strong 
probabilities, we have this farther recommendation of such an 
account of the universe, that it is far more magnificent, and 
■worthy of the infinite Creator, than any other of the narrower 
schemes.'* 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. Qf 

no farther than the suburbs of creation*; arrived only at the 
frontiers of the great Jehovah's kingdom.* 

And do they tell me, that the sun, the moon, and all the 
planets, are but a little part of HIS works? How great, then> 
are his signs ! and how mighty are his wonders /f - And if 
so, what is the CREATOR himself? How far exalted above 
all praise ? who is so high, that he looks down on the highest of 
these dazzling spheres, and sees even the summit of creation in 
a vale : So great, that this prodigious extent of space is but a 
point in his presence ; and all this confluence of worlds, as the 
lightest atom, that fluctuates in air, and sports in the meridian 
ray. J 

Thou most sublime and incomprehensible glorious God, 
how am I overwhelmed with awe ! how sunk into the lowest 

* yoh, after a most beautiful dissertation on the mighty works 
oi GOD; as they are distributed through universal Nature, from 
the heights of heaven, to the very depths of hell, closes the mag- 
nificent acsount with this acknowledgment, Lo / these are parti 
of his ways. Or, as the original word more literally signifies* 
and may, I think, be more elegantly rendered, These are only 
the skirts, the very outtermost borders of his works. No more 
than a small preface to the immense volume of the creation. — 
From the Hebrew extremitates , I cannot foi bear thinking on the 
extreme and very attenuating fibres of the root, when compar* 
ed with the whole substance ef the trunk / or on the exquisitely 
small size of the capillary vessels, when compared with the 
' whole structure of the body, Job xxvi. 14. 
f Dan. iv. 3. 

\ This puts me in mind of a very fine remark on a^cnptural 
beauty, and a solid correction of the common translation, made 
by that learned, sagacious, and devout expositor, Vitringa — Isa* 
xl. 15, we find it written of the Supreme Being, that he taketh up 
the isles as a very little thing. — Which our critic observes, is nei* 
ther answerable to the import of the original, nor consonant to 
the structure of the discourse. The Prophet had no intention to 
inform mankind, what the Almighty could do with regard to 
the islands, if he pleased to exert uncontroulable power. His 
design was to shew, how insignificant, or rather what mere 
nothings they are in his esteem, and before his majesty. — The 
islands, says he, though so spacious as to afford room for the 
erection of kingdoms, and the abode of nations ; though so 
strong, as to withstand, for many thousands of years, the rag* 
ing and reiterated assaults of the whole watery world ; are yet, 
before the adored Jehovah, small as the minutest grain, which 
the eye can scarce discern ; light as the feathered note, which 
the least breath hurries away like a tempest. — Insula sunt ut leve 
quid, quod avolat. The deep-rooted islands are as the volatile 
atom, which, by the gentle undulations of the air, is wafted to 
and fro in perpetual agitation. 



08 CONTEMPLATIONS 

prostration of mind ! when I consider thy " excellent greah 
ness" and my own utter insignificancy? And have 1, exces- 
sively mean as I am, have I entertained any conceited appre- 
hensions, of myself ? Have I felt the least elatement of thought, 
in the presence of so majestic and adorable a Being ? How 
should this wound me with sorrow, and cover me with confu- 
sion 1—0 my GOD, was I possessed of all the high perfec~ 
tions, which accomplish and adorn the angels of light ; amidst 
all these noble endowments, I would fall down in the deepest 
abasement at thy feet. Lost in the infinitely superior blaze of 
thy uncreated glories, I would confess myself to be nothing ; 
to be less than nothing, and vanity. —-How* much more ought I 
to maintain the most unfeigned humiliation, before thy divine 
majesty ; who am not only dust and ashes, but a compound of 
ignorance, imperfection, and depravity. 

While, beholding this vast expanse, I learn my own extreme 
meanness, I would also discover the abject littleness of all tef* 
restrict! things. —What is the earth, with all her ostentatious 
scenes, compared with this astonishingly grand furniture of the 
skies? What, but a dim speck, hardly perceivable in the map 
of the universe ? It is observed by a very judicious writer,* That 
if the sun himself, which enlightens this part of the creation, 
was extinguished, and all the host of planetary worlds, which 
move about him were annihilated ; they would not be missed, 
by any eye that can take in the whole compass of Nature, any 
more than a grain of sand upon the sea-shore. The bulk of 
which they consist, and the space which they occupy, is so 
exceedingly little in comparison of the whole, that their loss 
woujd scarce leave a blank in the immensity of God's works. 
*~Ifthen, notour globe only, but this whole system, be so 
very diminutive ; what is a kingdom or a country ? What are 
a few lordships, or the so much admired patrimonies of those 
who are styled wealthy rf When I measure them with my own 
little pittance, they swell into proud and bloating dimensions. 
But when I take the universe for my standard, how scanty is 
their size, how contemptible their figure ! They shrink into 
pompous nothing. X 

When the keen-eyed eagle soars above all the feathered race, 
and leaves their very sight below; when she wings her way, 
with direct ascent, up the steep of heaven, and steadily gaz- 
ing on the meridian sun, accounts its beaming splendours all 
her own ; Does she then regard, with any solicitude, the mole 
that is flying in the air, or the dust which she shook from her 
fe€t ? And shall this eternal mind, which is capable of contem- 

* Spect. vol. VIII, No. 565. 
f yuvat inter sidera vagantem diwitum pawimenat ridere, et totmn 
cum anno suo terrain. Sex. 

\ Terrellcs granbia inania. Watts' Hor. Lyr. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 69 

plating its Creator's glory ; which is intended to enjoy the \i- 
fiqns'of his countenance; shall this eternal mind, endowed 
■with such great capacities, and made for such exalted ends, be 
so ignobly ambitious, as to sigh for the tinsels of state ; or so 
poorly covetous as to grasp after ample territories on a needle's 
point. — No : Under the influence of such considerations, I 
feel my sentiments expand, and my wishes acquire a turn of 
sublimity. My throbbing desires after worldly grandeur die 
away : and I find myself, if not possessed of power, yet supe- 
rior to its charms. Too long, must I own have my affjctons 

peen pinioned by vanity, and immured in this earthly clod. 
But these thoughts break the shackles.* These objects open 
Hie door of liberty. My soul, fired with such noble prospects, 
weighs anchor from this little nook, and coasts no longer ab< ut 
its contracted shores, doats no longer on its painful shells. The 
immensity of things is her range, and an infinity of bliss is 
her aim. 

Behold this immense expanse, and admire the condescension 

of thy God. In this manner, an inspired and princely 

astronomer improved his survey of the nocturnal Heavens. 
When I consider thy Heavens, even the work of thy fingers, 
the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained ; I am smitten 
with wonder at thy glory, and cry out in a transport of grati- 
tude, LORD, what is man, that thou art mindful of him ? Or 
the son of man, thai thou visiiest him ?\ " How amazing, 
how charming, is that divine benignity, which is pleased to 
bow down its sacred regards to so foolish and worthless a crea- 
ture ! yea, disdains not, from the height of infinite exaltation, 
to extend its kind providential care to our most minute con- 
cerns ? This is amazing.. But that the everlasting Sovereign 

should give his Son to be made flesh, and become our Saviour ! 
shall I call it a miracle of condescending goodness? Rather, 
what are all miracles, what are all mysteries, to this inerrable 
gift !" 

Had the brightest archangel been commissioned to come 
down, with the olive-branch of peace in his hand, signifying 
his eternal Maker's readiness to be reconciled ; on our bended 
knees, with tears of joy, and a torrent of thankful nes, we 
ought to have received the transporting news. But when, in- 
stead of such an angelic envoy, he sends his only-begotten Son, 
# 
* The soul of man was made to walk the skies, 

Delightful outlet of her prison here ! 

There, disencumber'd from her chains, the ties 

Of toys, terrestrial , she can rove at large ; 

There freely can respire, dilate, extend, 

In full proportion let loose all her powers. 

Wight noughts, No. IX. 
f PsaL viii. 3, 4. 

T 



70 CONTEMPLATIONS 

his Son beyond all thought illustrious, to make us the gracio 
overture: Sends him, from the " habitation of his holi- 
ness and glory," to put on the infirmities of mortality, and 

dwell in a tabernacle of clay : -Sends him, not barely to 

make 113 a transient visit, but to abide many years in our infe- 
rior ami miserable world : Sends him, not to exercise domi- 
nion over monarchs, but to wear out his life in the ignoble 
form of a servant ; and at last, to make his exit under the in- 
famous character of a malefactor ! Was ever love like this ? 
Did ever grace stoop so low?*— Should the sun be shorn of 
all his radiant honours, and degraded into a clod of the val- 
ues ; should all the dignitaries of heaven be deposed from their 
thrones, and degenerate into insects of a day ; great, great 
would be the abasement. But nothing to thine, most blessed 
Jesus; nothing to thine, thou Prince of Peace; when, for trs 
inen, and lor our salvation, thou didst not abhor the coarse 
accommodations of the manger ; thou didst not decline even 
the gloomy horrors of the grave. 

It is well, the sacred oracles have given this doctrine the 
most explicit confirmation, and evidence quite incontestable. 
Otherwise a favour so undeserved, so unexpected, and rich 
beyond all imagination, might stagger our belief.-— —Could 

* This reminds me of a very noble piece of sacred oratory, 
where, in a fine series of the most beautiful gradations, the 
Apostle displays the admirably condescending kindness of our 
Saviour. — — He thought it no robbery t it was his indisputable 
right, to be equal with the infinite, self-existent, and immortal 
Goa. Tet in mercy to sinners, he emptied himself 'of the incom- 
municable hononrs, and laid aside the robes of incomprehensi- 
ble glory. — When he entered into his mediatorial state, instead 
of acting in the grand capacity of universal Sovereign, he took 
upon him the form of a servant : And not the form of those min- 
istering spirits, whose duty is dignity itself ; who are throned, 
though adoring. He took not on him the nature of angels, but 
stooped incomparably lower ; assumed a body of animated 
dust, and was made in the likeness of men ; those inferior and 

depraved creatures : Astonishing condescension ! but not 

sufficient for the overflowing riches of the Redeemer's love. 
For, being found in the fashion of a man t he humbled himself 'far- 
ther still ; occupied the lowest place, where all was low and 
ignoble. He not only submitted 40 the yoke of the law, but 
also bore the infirmities, and ministered to the necessities of 
mortals. He even washed the feet of others, and had not 

where to lay his own hea"d. -Yea, he carried his meritorious 

humiliation to the very deepest degrees of possible abasement. 
He became obedient unto death : And not a common or natu- 
ral death, but a death more infamous than the gibbet ; more 
torturous than the rack ; — even the accursed death of the cross.-— 
Phil. ii. 6, 7, 8. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 71 

He, who launches all these planetary globes, through the il- 
limitable void ; and leads them on, from age to age, in their 
extensive career ; eauld he resign his hands to be confined by 
the girding cord, and his back to be ploughed by the bloody 
scourge ?— Could He, who crowns all the stars with inextin- 
guishable brightness, be himself defiled with spitting, and dis- 
iigured with the thorny scar ? It is the greatest of wonders, 
and yet the surest of truths. 

O ! ye mighty orbs, that roll along the spaces of the sky ; I 
wondered, a little while ago, at your vast dimensions, and am- 
pte^ circuits. But now my amazement ceases; or rather is en- 
tirely swallowed up, by a much more stupendous subject. 
Methinks, your enormous bulk is shrivelled to an atom ; your 
prodigious revolutions are contracted to a span ; while I muse 
upon the far more elevated heights, and unfathomable depths ; 
the infinitely more extended lengths, and unlimited breadths 
of this love of GOD in JESUS CHRIST.* 

Contemplating this stately expanse, I see a mirror whicji 
represents, in. the most awful colours, the heinousness of hu- 
man guilt. Ten thousand volumes, wrote on purpose to 

display the aggravations of my various acts -of disobedience, 
could not so effectually convince me of their inconceivable 
enormity, as the consideration of that all-glorious person^ 
who, to make an atonement for them, spilt the last drop of his 
blood.—/ have sinned, may every child of Adam say ; and 
•what shall I do unto thee, thou observer of men ?| Shall 
I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body 
for the sin of my soul? Vain commutation \ aiKisvjch as would 
be rejected by the blessed God, with the utmost abhorrence. 

■Will all the potentates, that sway the sceptre in a thousand 

kingdoms, devote their royal and honoured lives, to rescye 
an obnoxious creature from the stroke of vengeance? Alas! 
it must cost more, incomparably more, to expiate the malig- 
nity of sin, and save a guilty wretch from hell.— Will all the 
principalities of heaven, be content to assume my nature, and 
resign themselves to death for my pardon ?§ Even this would 

* Eph. iii. 18, 19. 

f ^hioquisque altkis ascendit in agnitione Christi, eo profundi- 
us peccati atrocitatem cognoscet. 

\ yob vii. 20. Not Preserver, as it stands in our version, but 
Observer of men. Which phrase, as it denotes the exact and in- 
cessant inspection of the Divine eye ; as it intimates the absolute 
impossibility, that any transgression should escape the Divine 
notice, is evidently most proper, both to assign the reason, and 
heighten the emphasis of the context. 

§ Milton sets this thought in a very poetical and striking 
light. — All the sanctities of heaven stand round the throne of 
the Supreme Majesty. God foretells and foresees the fall of 



72 CONTEMPLATIONS 

be too mean a satisfaction for inexorable justice, too scanty a 
reparation of God's injured honour. So flagrant is human 
guilt, that nothing but a victim of infinite dignity could con- 
stitute an adequate propitiation. — He who said, " Let there 
be light, and there was light ;" Let there be a firmament, and 
immediately the blue curtains floated in the sky ; He must 
take flesh ; He must feel the tierce torments of crucifixion ; 
and pour out his soul in agonies, if ever such transgressors are 
pardoned. 

How vast is that debt, which all the wealth of both the In- 
dies cannot discharge ! How \i iated that habit of body, which 
ail the drugs produced by Nature herself, cannot rectify ! But 
how much more ruined was thy condition, O my soul J How 
much more heinous were thy crimes ! Since nothing less than 
the sufferings and death of Messiah, the Son of God, and ra- 
diant image of his glory, could eifect thy recovery, or cancel 
thy iniquity. — Though, perhaps, thou art not sunk so very 
deep in pollution, as some of the most abandoned profligates ; 
yet remember the inestimable ransom paid to redeem thee from 
everlasting destruction. Remember this ; and i( never open 
thy mouth any more,"* either to murmur at the Divine chas- 

man; the ruin which will unavoidably ensue on his transgres- 
sion ; and the utter impossibility of his being able to extricate 
himself from the abyss of misery. 

He, with his whole posterity, must die ; 
Die he, or justice must ; unless for him 
Seme other able, and as willing, pay 
The rigid satisfaction, death for death. 
After which affecting representation, intended to raise the most 
tender emotions of pity, the following enquiry is addressed to 
all the surrounding angels : 

Say, heavenly powers, where shall we find such leve \ 

Which of you will be mortal to redeem 

Man's mortal crime ? and die, the dead to save ? 

He ask'd : but all the heavenly choir stood mute, 

And silence was in heaven. 
There is, to me at least, an inimitable spirit and beauty in the 
last circumstance. — That such an innumerable multitude of ge- 
nerous and compassionate beings, should be struck dumb with 
surprise and terror, at the very mention of the deadly forfeiture 
and ransom set ! No language is so eloquent as this silence. Words 
could not possibly have expressed, in so emphatical a manner, 
the dreadful nature of the task ; the absolute inability of any or 
all creatures to execute it ; the supereminent and matchless love 
of the eternal Son, in undertaking the tremendous work : not 
only without reluctance, but unsought and unimplored ; with 
readiness, alacrity, and delight. Paradise Lost, book III. line 
209, edit. Bent. 

* Ezek. xvi. 63* 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS, 73 

tisement, or to glory in thy own attainments. Remember 
this; and even " loath thyself,* for the multitude of thy 
provocations," and thy great baseness. 

Once more : Let me view this beautiful, this magnificent 
expanse; and conceive some juster apprehensions of the un- 
known richness of my Saviour s atonement. — I am informed 
by a writer who cannot mistake, that the High Priest of my 
profession, who was also the sacrifice for my sins, is higher than 
the heavens, f more exalted in dignity, more bright with glo- 
ry, than all the heavenly mansions, and all their illustrious in- 
habitants. If my heart was humbled at the consideration of 
its excessive guilt,* how do all my drooping powers revive at 
this delightful thought ? The poor criminal, that seemed to be 
tottering on the very brink of the infernal pit, is raised, by such 
a belief, even to the portals of paradise. My self-abasement, I 
trust, will always continue; but my fears, under the influence 
of such a conviction, are quite gone.J I do n °t> I cannot, 
doubt the efficacy of this propitiation. While I see a glimpse 
of its matchless excellency, and verily believe myself interested 
in its merits ; I know not what it is to feel any misgiving sus- 
picions; but amstedfast in faith, and joyful through hope. 

Be my iniquities like debts of millions of talents, here is more 
than full payment for all that prodigious sum. Let the enemy 
of mankind, and accuser of the brethren, load me with invec- 
tives ; this one plea, A divine Redeemer died, most thoroughly 
quashes every indictment. For though there be much turpi- 

* Ezek. xxxvi. 31. f Heb. vii. 26. 

^ I am sorry to find, that some of my readers were a little 
disgusted at this expression, " My fears are quite gone ;" as 
thinking, it discovered a tincture of arrogance in the writer, and 
tended to discourage the weak Christian. But I hope a more 
mature consideration will acquit me from both these charges.— 
For what has the author said ? Only, that at some peculiarly 
happy moments, when the Holy Ghost bears witness of Christ 
in his heart, and he is favoured with a glimpse of the Redeem- 
ers matchless excellency ; — that, in these brighter intervals of 
life, his trembling fears, with regard to the decisive sentence 
of the great tribunal, are turned into pleasing expectations. 
And what is there in such a declaration offensive to the strictest 
modesty, or dispiriting to the weakest believer ? Instead of cre- 
ating discouragement, it points out the way to obtain a settled 
.tranquility. Its natural tendency is to engage the serious mind 
in a more constant and attentive meditation on the unknown 
merits of the Divine MEDIATOR. And were we more tho- 
roughly acquainted, more deeply affected, with his unutterable 
dignity ; I am persuaded, our uneasy apprehensions would pro* 
portionably vanish : our faith be established, our hopes bright- 
ened, and our jovs enlarged. 

T2 



f4 CONTEMPLATIONS 

tude, and manifold transgressions—" there is no condemnation 
to those that are in Christ Jesus." — Nay, were! chargeable 
with all the vilest deeds which have been committed in every 
ige of the world, by every nation of men; even in this most 
deplorable case, I need not sink into despair. Even such guilt, 
though grievous beyond all expression, is not to be compared 
with that abundance of grace and righteousness, which dwell 

in the incarnate Divinity. How great, how transcendantly 

glorious, are the perfections of the adored Jehovah ! So 
great, so superlatively precious, is the expiation of the dying 
Jesus. It is impossible for the human mind to exalt this 
atonement* too highly ; it is impossible for the humble pe- 
nitent, to confide hi it too steadily. The scriptures, the 
scriptures of eternal truth, have said it, (exult my soul in the 
belief of it!) that the blood on which we rely, is God's oivn 
blood ;| and therefore all-sufficient to expiate, omnipotent 
to save. 

David, that egregious sinner, but more exemplary saint, 
seems to have been well acquainted with this comfortable truth. 
What else can be the import of that very remarkable, but 
most devout declaration ? Thou shalt purge me% xvith hyssop, 
and I shall be clean : Thou shalt tvask me, and I shall be whiter 
than snozv. — u I have been guilty, I must confess, of the most 
complicated and shocking crimes: Crimes, inflamed by every 
aggravating circumstance, with regard to myself, my neigh- 
bour, and my God. Myself, who have been blessed above 
men, and the distinguished favourite of Providence ; my neigh- 
bour, who, in the most dear and tender interests, has been 
irreparably injured ; my GOD, who might justly expect the 
most grateful returns of duty, instead of such enormous viola- 

* This doctrine, though rich with consolation to the ruined sin- 
ner ; yet it is not likely to open a door for licentiousness, and em- 
bolden transgressors to execute their VICES? No: It is the 
most powerful motive to that genuine repentance, which^om? 
from an unfeigned love of Gob, and operates in a hearty detes- 
tation of all sin. One who knew the unmeasurable goodness of 
the Lord, and was no stranger to the sinful perverseness of our 
nature, says, There is mercy with thee: THEREFORE shalt thou 
be feared, Psal. cxxx. 4. — Words full to my purpose ; which at 
once adds the highest, authority to this sentiment, and directs our 
minds to us proper influence, and due improvement, 
f Acts xx. 28. 

\ Psal H 7. Thou shalt purge. I prefer this translation be- 
fore the new one. Because this speaks the language of a more 
s'edfast belief, and gives the highest honour to the Divine good- 
ness. Were the words intended to bear no more than the com." 
jnon petitu nary sense, and not to be expressive of a noble ple- 
rophory of faith j they would rather have been imperatives, antf 
nettfutwee. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 75 

tions of his law. Yet, all horrid and execrable as my offence 
is, it is nothing to the superabundant merit of that great Re- 
deemer, who promised from the foundations of the world ; in 
whom all my fathers trusted ; who is the hope of all the ends 
of the earth. Though my conscience be more loathsome, 
with adulterous impurity, than the dunghills though treach- 
ery and murder have rendered it even black as the gloom of 
hell ; yet, washed in the ( fountain opened for sin and for un- 
cleanness/* I shall be — 1 say, not pure only, this were a dispar- 
agement to the efficacy of my Saviour's death ; but i shall be 
fair as the lily, and white as the snow. Nay, let me not dero- 
gate from the glorious object of my confidence ; cleansed by 
this sovereign sanctifying stream, I shall be fairer than the 
full-blown lily, whiter than the new-fallen snows," 

POWER, saith the scripture, belongeth unto GOD.f — And 
in what majestic lines is this attribute of Jehovah written, 
throughout the whole volume of the creation ? especially, 
through those magnificent pages, unfolded in yonder starry re- 
gions ; which are therefore styled, by the sweet and seraphic 
singer of Israel, " the firmament of his power ; ?, | because the 
grand exploits of Omnipotence are there displayed with the ut- 
most pomp, and recorded in the most legible characters. 

Who, that looks upward to the midnight sky ; and, with an 
eye of reason, beholds its rolling wonders ; who can forbear 
enquiring, Of what were those mighty orbs for?ned ?— Ama- 
zing to relate ! They were produced without materials. They 
sprung from emptiness itself. The stately fabric of universal 
Nature emerged out of nothing. — What instruments were used 
by the Supreme Architect, to fashion the parts with such exqui- 
site niceness, and give so beautiful a polish to the whole ? How 
was all connected into one finely-proportioned, and nobly fi- 
nished structure ? — A bare Fiat accomplished all.— Let them 
be, said God. He added no more ; and immediately the 
marvellous edifice arose ; adorned with every beauty ; display- 
ing innumerable perfections ; and declaring amidst enraptured 
seraphs, its great Creator's praise. " By the word of theLoRD, 
were the Heavens made, and all the hosts of them by the 
breath of his mouth. "§— What forceful machinery fixed some 

* Zech. xiii. 1. f Psalm lxii. 11. \ Psalm cl. 1. 
I If this thought is admitted a second time, and suffered to 
ennoble the next paragraph ; it is partly, because of its unequalled 
sublimity; partly, because it awakens the most grand idea of 
creating power; and partly, because the practice of the Psaln.* 
ist, an authority too great to be controvered, is my precedent. 
— — The beautiful stanza quoted from Psql- xxxiii. 6, is a proof, 
how thoroughly the royal poet entered into the majesty of the 
Mosaic narration. The repetition of the sentiment, ver. 9. in- 



76 CONTEMPLATIONS 

of* those ponderous glomes on an immovable basis? What irre- 
sistible impulse bowled others through the circuit of the hea- 
vens? What coercive energy confined their impetuous courses 
within limits astonishingly large, yet most minutely true ?• — 
Nothing but his sovereign will. For all things were at first 
constituted, and all to this day abide, " according to his ordi- 
nance." 

Without any toilsome assiduity or laborious process, to raise 
— to touch — to speak such a multitude of immense bodies into 
being ; — to launch them through the spaces of the sky, as an 
arrow from the hand of a giant ; — to impress on such unwieldy 
masses, a motion far outstripping the swiftness of the winged 

creation ;* and to continue them in the same rapid whirl, 

for thousands and thousands of years ; — what an amazing in- 
stance of infinite might is this ! — Can any thing be impossible 
to the Lord, the Lord God ; the Creator and Controuler 
of all the ends of the earth, all the regions of the universe? 
Rather is not all that we count difficult, perfect ease to that 
glorious Being, who only spake, and the world was made ?f 
who only gave command, and the stupendous axle was lodged 
fast, the lofty wheels moved complete ? — What a sure defence, 
O my soul, is this everlasting strength of thy God ! Be this 
thy continual refuge, in the article of danger ; thy never-fail- 
ing resource, in every time of need. 

What cannot this uncontroulable power of the great Jeho- 
vah effect for his people? Be their miseries ever so galling* 
cannot this God relieve them ? Be their wants ever so nume- 
rous, cannot this God supply them ? Be their corruptions 

timates, how peculiarly he was charmed with that noble manner 
of describing the Divine operations ; while the turn of his own 
composition shews, how perfectly he possessed the same elevat- 
ed way of thinking : And this, long before Longinus wrote the 
celebrated treatise, which has taught the Heathen* as well as 
the Christian world, to admire the dignity of the Jewish legis- 
lator's style. Vid. Longin. de subltm: sect. IX. 

* To give one instance of this remark. — The earth, in the 
diurnal revolution, which it performs on its own axis, whirls 
about at the rate of above a thousand miles an hour. And as 
the great orbit which it describes annually round the sun, is 
reckoned at 540 millions of miles, it must travel nearly a million 
and a half each day. — What a force must be requisite, to pro- 
trude so vast a globe ; and wheel it on, loaded as it is with huge 
mountains, and ponderous rocks, at such a prodigious degree of 
rapidity ! It surpasses human conception ! How natural, how 
pertinent, how almost necessary, after such an observation, is 
the acknowledgment made by holy Job : I know that thou canst 
do every thing ; and that no thought, no imaginable scheme, can be 
<withholdenfrom thee, can lie beyond thy power to execute, chap, 
xlii. 9. f Psalm xxxiii. 9. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 77 

within ever so inveterate, or their temptations without ever so 
importunate, cannot this mighty, mighty God, subdue the 
former, and fortify them against the latter ? — Should trials, with 
an incessant vehemence, sift thee as wheat; should tribulation, 
with a weight of woes, almost grind thee to powder ; should 
pleasure, with her bewitching smiles, solicit thee to delicious 
ruin ; yet " hold thee fast by God," and lay thy help upon 
him that is omnipotent.* Thou canst not be involved in such 
calamitous circumstances, or exposed to such imminent peril ; 
but thy God, whom thou servest, is able to deliver thee from 

* It is a most charming description, as well as a most com- 
fortable promise, which we find in Isa. xl. 29, 30, 31. — HE 
giveth power to the feeble ; and to them that have no might at all, 
he not only imparteth, but encreaseth strength ; making it to 
abound, where it did not so much as exist. — Without this aid 
of Jehovah, even the youths amidst the very prime of their vi- 
gour and activity, shall become languid in their work, and weary 
in their course. And the young men, to whose resolution and 
abilities nothing seemed impracticable, shall not only not suc- 
ceed, but utterly fall, and miscarry in their various enterprises. 
—Whereas they that wait upon the LORD, and confide in his 
grace, shall press on, with a generous ardour, from one degree 
of religious improvement to another. Instead of exhausting, 
they shall renew their strength ; difficulties shall animate, and toil 
invigorate them. They shall mount up as with soaring wings, 
above all opposition ; they shall be carried through every dis- 
couragement, as eagles cleave the yielding air. They shall run, 
with speed and alacrity, the way cf God's commandments, and 
not be weary : They shall hold on (progredientur, carpent iter J 
with constancy and perseverance, in those peaceful paths, and 
not faint; but arrive at the end of their progress, and receive 
the prize of their high calling. 

To this most cheering doctrine, permit me to add its no less 
beautiful and delightful contrast. Jl 'Up b a z, speaking of the ene- 
mies of the righteous, says, Nihil excisumf actio nobis adversaria. 
>— We should reckon our language acquitted itself tolerably 
well, if, when depreciating the abilities of an adversary, it 
should represent them weak as the scorched thread, feeble as the 
dissolving smoke. But these are cold Forms of speech, compared 
with the eloquence of the East. According to the genius of 
?our Bible, all the power that opposes the godly, is a mere noth- 
ing; or, to speak with a more emphatical air of contempt, a 
destroyed, an extirpated nothing. Admire this expression, ye that 
are charmed wich daring images, and (what Tally calls verbum 
ardens) a spirited and glowing diction — Remember this decla- 
ration, ye that fight the good fight of faith. The united force 
of all your enemies, be it ever so formidable to the eye of flesh, 
is, before your Almighty Guardian, nihil nihilissimum, not only 
nothing, but./ro than nothing, and vanity, yob xxii. 2G. 



f8 CONTEMPLATIONS 

the one, and to support thee under the oilier. To support ! To 
deliver i Let me not dishonour the unlimited greatness of his 
power. He is able to exalt thee, from the deepest distress, 
to the most triumphant joy ; and to make even a complica- 
tion of evils work togej her for thy ev erlasti ng good. He is able, 
not only to accomplish what 1 have been speaking, but to do 
exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think.* 

O the ivretched condition of the wicked, who have this Lord 
cf all power for their enemy ! O ! tha desperate madness of 
the ungodly, who provoke the Almighty to jealousy ? — Besot- 
ted creatures ! are you able to contend with your Maker, and 
enter the lists against incensed Omnipotence? Can you bear 
the fierceness of his wrath, or sustain the vengeance of his lifted 
arm ? At his presence, though awfully serene, the hills melt 
like wax, and the " mountains skip like frighted lambs." At 
the least intimation of his displeasure, the foundations of Nature 
rock, and the " pillars of heaven tremble." How then c^n a 
withered leaf endure when (i his lips are full of indignation, 
and his tongue as a devouring fire ?" — Or can any thing screen 
a guilty worm, when the great and terrible God shall whet his 
glittering sword, and his hand take hold on inexorable judg- 
ment ? When that hand, which shoots the planets, masses of 
excessive bulk, f with such surprising rapidity, through the 
sky : thai hand, which darts the comets to such unmeasurable 
distances, beyond the orbit of our remotest planets, beyond the 

* I should, in this place, avoid swelling the notes any farther, 
was it not to take notice of the inimitable passage quoted above, 
and to be found Eph. iii. 20.-— Which, if I do not greatly mis- 
take, is the most complete representation of Divine power, that 

it is possible for words to frame.- To do all that our tongue 

can ask, is a miracle of might. But we often think more than 
we can express, and are actuated " with groanings unutterable."' 
Yet, to answer these vast desires, is not beyond the accomplish- 
ment of our heavenly Father. — Nay, to make his gifts and his 
blessings commensurate to the largest stretch of human expec- 
tations, is a small thing with the God of glory. He is able to 
do above all that the most enlarged apprehension can imagine ; 
yea, to do abundantly more, exceeding abundantly more, than 
the mind itself, in the utmost exertion of all its faculties, is 
capable of wishing, or knows how to conceive. 

f @ne of the planets (Saturn) is supposed to be more than 
ninety times as big as the globe on which we live. According 
to the same calculation, the largest of planets (Jupiter J is 
above 200 times vaster, than this vast collection of spacious for- 
ests, towering mountains, extensive continents, and boundless 
oceans.— Such enormous magnitude ! winged with such prodi- 
gious speed !— It raises astonishment beyond expression.— 
With GOD is terrible majesty ! Job xxxvii. 22.— Who shall not 
fear THEE, O LORD ! and glorify thy name ? Rev. xv. 4. 






ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 79 

pursuit of the strongest eye : When that Hand is stretched 
out to punish, can the munition of rocks, the intervention of 

seas, or even interposing worlds, divert the blow ? -Consider 

this, Ambition ; and bow thy haughty crest. Consider this, 
Disobedience; and bendjhy iron sinew. O! consider this, 
ail ye that forget, or affront, the tremendous Jehovah. He 
can, by a single act of his will, lay the universe in utter ruin : 
And can he want power to bririg you in a moment, in the twink- 
ling of an eye, to the dust of death, or to the flames of hell ? 
He has- — I say not, ten thousand lightnings, to scorch you to 
ashes; ten thousand thunders, to crush you into atoms ; but, 
what is unspeakably more dreadful, he has an army of terrors, 
even in the look of his angry countenance. His very frown is 
worse than destruction. 

1 cannot dismiss this subject, without admiring the patience 
of the blessed God ; who, though so strong and powerful, 
yet " is provoked every day." — Surely, as is his majesty, so 
is his mercy; his pity altogether commensurate to his power. 
If I vilify but the name of an earthly monarch, I lose my li- 
berty, and am confined to the dungeon. If I appear in arms 
and draw the sword, against my national Sovereign; my life 
is forfeited, and my very blood will scarce atone for the crime. 
But thee I have dishonoured, O ! thou King immortal and in- 
visible! Against thee my breast has fomented secret di sqffec- 
tion ; my behaviour has risen up in open rebellion; and yet I 
am spared, yet I am preserved. Instead of being banished 
from thy presence, I sit at thy table, and am fed from thy 
hand. Instead of pursuing me with thunderbolts of vengeance, 
thy favours surround me on every side. That arm, that in- 
jured arm, which might justly fail, with irretrievable ruin, on 
a traitor's head, is most graciously stretched out, to caress him 
with the tenderest endearments, to cherish him with every in- 
stance of parental kindness. — O ! thou mightiest, thou best of 
beings, how am I pained at my very soul, for such shameful 
and odious disingenuity ! Let me always abominate myself, as 
the basest of creatures : But adore that unwearied long-suffer- 
ing of thine, which refuses to be irritated ; love that unremitted 
goodness, which no acts of ingratitude could stop, or so much 
as check in its gracious current. O ! let this stubborn heart, 
which duty could not bind, which threatnings could not awe, 
be the captive, the tvilling captive, of such triumphant bene- 
ficence. 

I have often been struck with wonder at that Almighty skill, 
which weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a ba- 
lance ; which proportioned the waters in the hollow of his hand, 
and adjusted the dust of the earth* by a measure. But how 

* Isa. xl. 12. The dust of the earth, in this sublime scripture, 
signifies the dry land, or solid -pott of our globe; vhich is plac- 



80 CONTEMPIATIONS 

much more marvellous is that magnificent ceconomy, which 
poised the stars with inexpressible nicety, and meeted out the 
heavens with a span ? where all is prodigiously vast ; immensely 
various ; and yet more than mathematically exact. Surely 
the wisdom of God manifests itself in the skies, and shines in 
those lucid orbs ; shines on the contemplative mind, with a 
lustre incomparably brighter, than that which their united 
'splendours transmit to the eye. 

Behold yonder countless multitude of globes ; consider their 
amazing magnitude; regard them as the sovereigns of so many 
systems, each accompanied with his planetary equipage. Upt 
on this supposition, what a multiplicity of mighty spheres, 
must be perpetually running their rounds, in the upper regions ! 
Yet none mistake their way, or wander from the goal ; though 
they pass through trackless and unbounded fields. None fly 
off from their orbits, into extravagant excursions ; none press 
in upon their centre, with too near an approach. None inter- 
fere with each other, in their perennial passage, or intercept 
the kindly communications of another's influence.* But all 
their rotations proceed in eternal harmony ; keeping such time, 
and observing such laws, as are most exquisitely adapted to the 
perfection of the whole. 

While I contemplate this " excellent wisdom, which made 
the heavens," and attunes all their motions; how am I abashed 
at that mixture of arrogance and folly, which has, at any time, 
inclined me to murmur at thy dispensations, O Lord ! what 
is this, but a sort of implicit treason against thy supremacy, 

ed in contradistinction to the whole collection of fluid matter, 
mentioned in the preceeding clause. — Perhaps, this remarkable 
expression may be intended to intimate, not only the extreme 
niceness, which stated the dimensions of the world in general, 
or in the gross ; but also that particular exactness with which 
the very smallest materials that constitute its frame (not ex- 
cepting each individual atom) were calculated and disposed — 
q, d. It is a small thing to say, no such enormous redundances, 
as unnecessary ridges of mountains were suffered to subsist. 
There was not so much as the least grain of sand superfluous, 
or a single particle of dust deficient. — As the grand aim of the 
description is to celebrate the consummate wisdom exemplified in 
the creation ; and to display that perfect proportion, with 
which every part tallies, coincides, and harmonises with the 
whole : I have taken leave to alter the word of our English 
translation, comprehend and introduce in its stead, a term 
equally faithful to the Hebrew, and more significative to the 
prophet's precise idea. 

* The interception oflight. by means of an eclipse, happens 
very rarely. And then it is of so short a continuance, as not to 
be at all inconvenient. Nay, it is attended with such circum- 
stances as render it rather useful than prejudicial. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 8t 

and a tacit denial of thy infinite understanding. Hast thou 

so regularly placed such a wonderful diversity of systems, thro' 
the spaces of the universe ? — Didst thou, without any proba- 
tionary essays, without any improving retouches, speak them 
into the most consummate perfection? — Dost thou continually 
superintend aii their circumstances, with a sagacity that never 
mistakes the minutest title of propriety ? And shall I be |o un- 
accountably stupid as to question the justness of thy discern- 
ment, in " chusing my inheritance, and fixing the bounds of 
my habitation. 77 — Not a single erratum in modelling the struc- 
ture, determining the distance,* and conducting the career of 
u nnumbered worlds ! and shall my peevish humour presume 
to censure thy interposition with regard to the affairs of one in- 
considerate creature ; whose stature in such a comparative 
view, is less than a span, and his present duration little more 
than a moment ? 

O ! thou, God, " in whose hand my breath is, and whose 
are all my ways," let such sentiments as now possess my 
thoughts, be always lively on my heart ! These shall compose 
my mind into a cheerful acquiescence, and a thankful submis- 
sion ; even when afflictions gall the sense, or disappointments 
break my schemes. Then shall I, like the grateful patriarch, f 
in all the changes of my condition, and even in the depths of 
distress, erect an altar of adoring resignation, and inscribe it 
with 'the Apostles motto, To God only wise. Then, shouidst 
thou give me leave to be the carver of my own fortunes, I 
would humbly desire to relinquish the grant, and recommit the 
disposal of myself to thy unerring beneficence. Fully persuad- 
ed that thy counsels, though contrary to my frowar'd inclina- 
tions, or even afflictive to my flesh, are incomparably more eli- 
gible, than the blind impulse of my own will, however sooth- 
ing to animal nature. 

On a careless inspection, you perceive no accuracy, or uni- 
formity, in the position of the heavenly bodies. They appear 
like an illustrious chaos ;a promiscuous heapof shining globes ; 
neither ranked in order, nor moving by line.- — -But what 
seems confusion wall regularity. What carries a show of neg- 

* The sun in particular (and let this serve as a specimen of 
that most curious exactness, with which the other celestial bo- 
dies are constituted, and all their circumstances regulated) the 
sun is formed of such a determinate magnitude, and placed at 
such a convenient distance — " as not to annoy, but only refresh 
us, and nourish the ground with its kindly warmth. If it was 
larger, it would set the earth on fire ; if smaller, it would leave 
it frozen. If it was nearer us, we should be scorched to death ; 
if farther from us> we should not be able to live for want of 
heat.* ' S t a ck H ouse's History of the Bible 

f See Gen. xii. 7, 8. 

u 



83 CONTEMPLATIONS 






ligence, is really the result of the most masterly contrivance. 
\ou think, perhaps, they rove in their aerial flight ; but they 
rove by the nicest rule, and without the least error. Their cir- 
cuits, though seemingly devious ; their mazes, though intri- 
cate to our apprehensions,* are marked out, not indeed with 
golden compasses, but by the infinitely more exact determina- 
tions of the all- wise Spirit. 

So, wlnt wears the appearance of calamity, in the allotments 
appointed for the godly, has really the nature of a blessing. 
It issues from fatherly love, and will terminate in the richest 
good. [(Joseph is snatched from the embraces of an indulgent 
parent, and abandoned to slavery in a foreign land ; it is in 
order to save the holy family from perishing by famine; and to 
preserve " the seed in whom all the nations of the earth should 
be blessed." If he falls into the deepest disgrace, it is on pur- 
pose that he may rise to the highest honours. Even the con- 
finement of the prison, by the unsearchable workings of Pro- 
vidence, opens his way to the right hand of the throne itself. 
Let the most afflicted servant of Jesus wait the final up- 
shot of things. He will then discover the apparent expediency 
of all those tribulations, which now, perhaps, he can hardly ad- 
mit without reluctance, or surfer without some struggles. of dis- 
satisfaction. Then the gushing tear, and the heaving sigh, 
will be turned into tides of gratitude, and hymns of holy 
wonder* 

In the mean time, let no audacious railer presumptuously im- 
peach the Divine procedure ; but, adoring where we cannot 
comprehend, let us expect the evolution of the mysterious 
plan" Then shall every eye perceive, that the seeming laby- 
rinths of providence, were the most direct and compendious 
way, to effect his general purposes of grace, and to bring about 
each one's particular happiness.f — Then, also, shall it be clear- 
ly shewn, in the presence of applauding worlds, why Virtue, 
pined in want, while Vice riotted in affluence ; Why amiable 
Innocence so often dragged the dungeon chain, while horrid 

Guilt trailed the robe of state. That day of universal audit, 

that day of everlasting retribution, will not only vindicate, but 
magnify, the whole management of Heaven. The august ses- 
sions shall close with this unanimous, this glorious acknowledg- 
ment : " Though clouds and darkness, impenetrable by any 

* Mazes intricate, 

Eccentric, intervolv'd ; yet regular 

Then most, when most irregular they seem. Milt. 

■)• The moral world, 

Which, though to us it seems embroil'd, moves on 

In higher order ; fitted, and impelFd 

By Wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all 

In gen'ral good. Tboms. Wint, h 58(L 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. S3 

human scrutiny, were sometimes round about the Supreme 
Conductor of things ; yet righteousness and judgment were the 
constant habitation of his seat,* the invariable standard' of ail 
his administrations. " Thus, (if I may illustrate the grand- 
est truths by inferior occurrences) while we view the arras on 
the side of least distinction, it is void of any elegant fancy ; 
without any nice strokes of Art, nothing but a confusrd jumble 
of incoherent threads, No sooner is the piece beheld in its 
proper aspect, but the suspected rudeness vanishes, and the 
most curious arrangement takes place. We are charmed, with 
designs of the finest taste, and figures of the most graceful 
form. All is shaped with symmetry ; ail is clad in beauty. 

The goodness of God is most eminently displayed in the 
skies. — Could we take an understanding survey of whatever is 
formed by the Divine Architect, throughout the whole extent 
of material things ; our minds would be transported with their 
excellencies, and our tongues echo back that great encomium. 
They are " good, very good."f Most beautifulj in them- 
selves; contrived by unerring wisdom, and executed with ini- 
mitable skill. Most usejulX in their functions; exactly fitting 
the places they fill, and completely answering the purposes for 
which they were intended. — AH the parts of the inanimate crea- 
tion proclaim, both by their intrinsic and relative excellencies, 
the all-diffusive beneficence of their Maker. 

How much more wonderful are the displays of Divine indul- 
gence, in the worlds of life ! Because dead matter is incapable 
of delight, therefore the gracious Creator has raised innumera- 
ble ranks of perceptive existence ; such as are qualified to taste 
his boimty, and enjoy each a happiness suited to its peculiar 
state. With this view, he furnished the regions of inferior na- 
ture, with an order and a series of sensitive beings. The wa- 
ters teem with shoals of finny inhabitants. The dry land 
swarms with animals of every order. The dwellings of the 
firmament, are occupied by multitudes of winged people; not 
so much as a green leaf, philosophers say, but lodges and ac- 
commodates its puny animalcule tenants. §~ — -And wherefore 

* Psal. xcvii. % t Gen i. 31. 

\ \ It was nobly said, by a Pagan philosopher, on this occa- 
sion ;' That GOD, when he undertook t£e <ivor£ cf ereatian, trans- 
formed himself into love. — But he need not transform himself into 
this amiable principle ; for " God is love ;" as was much more 
nobly said by one, whom that philosopher would have termed a 
Barbarian. 

\ A very celebrated poet, in a beautiful paragraph on this 
subject, informs his readers, that ail nature swarms with life. 
In subterraneous cells, the earth heaves with vital motion. 
Even the hard stone; in the very inmost recesses of its impene- 
trable citadel, holds multitudes of animated inhabitants. The 
pulp of mellow fruit, and all the productions of the orchard, 



84 CONTEMPLATIONS 

this diversity, this profusion of living creatures, flying the air, 
treading the ground, and gliding through the paths of the sea? 
For this most glorious reason :-— That the Eternal Sovereign 
may exercise his superabundant goodness; that his table may 
be turniihecl with millions and millions of guests ; thai he may 
till, every hour, every moment, their mouths with food, or 
their hearts with gladness. 

But what a small theatre are three or four elements for the 
operations of Jehovah's bounty ? His magnificent liberality 
scorns such scanty limits. If you ask, wherefore has he created 
allzumlds, and replenished them with an unknown multiplicity 
of beings, rising, one above another, in an endless gradation 
of stiil richer endowments, and still nobler capacities? The 
answer is, — For the manifestation of his own glory, and espe- 
cially for the communication of his inexhaustible beneficence.* 
■ — The great Creator could propose no advantage to himself. 
His bliss is incapable of any addition, " Before the mountains 
were brought forth, or even the e^rth and the world were 
made," he was supremely happy in his own independent and 
all-sufficient self. His. grand design therefore, in erecting so 
many stately fabrics, and peopling them with so many tribes 
of inhabitants, was, to transfuse his exuberant kindness, and 
impart felicity in all its forms. Ten thousand worlds, stocked 
with ten thousand times ten thousand ranks of sensitive and 

feed the invisi!4e^nations. Each Mquid, whether of acid taste, 
or milder relish, abounds w T ith various forms of sensitive exist- 
ence. Nor is the pure stream, or transparent air, without their 
colonies of unseen people. — In which constitution of things, we 
have a wonderful instance, not only of the Divine goodness to 
those minute beings in giving them a capacity for animal grati- 
fications ; but of his tender care for mankind, in making them 
imperceptible to our senses. 
— — These conceal'd 

By the kind art of forming Heav'n, escape 
The grosser eye of man : For if the worlds, 
In worlds enclos'd, should on his senses burst ? 
From cates ambrosial, and the nectar'd bowl, 
He'd turn abhorrent ; and, in dead of night, 
While silence sleeps o'er all, be stunn'd with iroise. 

Thomson's Summer, 
* A sacred writer, considering this delightful subject, and 
confining his observation within the narrow limits of his own 
country, cries out, w T ith a mixture of amazement and gratitude, 
How great is bis goodness, and how great is bis beauty ! — Who then 
can forbear being lost in wonder, and transported with delight, 
when he extends his survey to those infinitely more copious 
communications of Divine bounty ; which, like salutary and re- 
freshing streams, run through all the world's ; and make not 
only the little rallies of a single kingdom, but the immensity of 
creation, laugh and sing. Zech. ix. 17. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 35 

intelligent existence, are so many spacious gardens, which, 
with rivers of communicated joy, this ever-flowing fountain 
waters continually. 

Boundless,* and (which raises our idea of this divine prin- 
ciple, to the very highest degree of perfection) disinterested 
munificence !.* How inexpressibly amiable is the blessed God, 
considered in this charming light f Is it possible to conceive 
any excellence so adorable and lovely, as infinite benevolence, 
guided by unerring wisdom, and exerting Almighty power, 
on purpose to make a whole universe happy ?■ — O my soul what 
an irresistible attractive is here ! What a most worthy object 
for my most fervent affection ! Shall now every glittering toy 
become a rival to this transcendentiy beneficent Being, and rob 
him of thy heart ; — No. Let his all-creating arm teach thee 
to trust in the fullness of his sufficiency : Let his all super- 
intending eye incline thee to acquiesce in the dispensations of 

his providence: And let his bounty, so freely vouchsafed, 

so amply diffused, induce thee to love him with all the ardor 
of a grateful and admiring soul ; induce thee to serve him, 
not with a joyless awe, or slavish dread, but with unfeigned 
alacrity, and a delightful complacency. 

If the goodness of God is so admirably seen in the works 
of Nature, and the favours of Providence; with what a noble 
superiority does it even triumph in the mystery of redemption !f 
Redemption is the brightest mirror, in which to contemplate 
the most lovely attribute of the Deity. Other gifts are only 
as mites from the divine treasury ; but redemption opens, I 
had almost said exhausts, all the stores of indulgence and grace. 

* * In this sense there is none good, but One , that is GOD. 
None universally and essentially good. None, whose goodness 
extends itself, in an infinite variety of blessings, to every ca- 
pable object ; or who always dispenses his favours, from the 
sole principle oi free and disinterested benevolence. 

f In this, and in other parts of the Contemplations, the reader 
will observe, that the attributes of the Deity are represented, 
as shining with more distinguished lustre in the winders of re- 
demption, than in the w T orks of creation. If such remarks should 
seem to be unprecedented, or to stand in need of a vindication ; 
permit me to subjoin the sentiments of a great critic, equally 
versed in both those sublime theories. — " In a perfect orator," 
says he, " Fully requires some skill in the nature of heavenly 
bodies ; because his mind will become more extensive and un- 
conftned ; and when he descends to treat of human affairs, he 
will both think and write in a more exalted and magnificent man- 
ner. For the same reason, that excellent master would have re- 
commended the study of those great and glorious mysteries, 
which revelation has discovered to us : \o ivhich the noblest parts 
vf the system of the world, are as much inferior, as the creature is 
tess excellent than the Creator." Spct. vol. VIII. No. 83c, 

U 2 



86 CONTEM PLATIONS 

Herein u God commendeih his love:* Not only manifests, 
but sets it off, as it were with every bright and grand embel- 
lishment : Manifests it in so stupendous a manner, that it is be- 
yond parallel ; beyond thought ; above all blessing and praise*" 
— Was he not thy Son, everlasting God, thy only Son; the 
Son of thy bosom, from eternal ages ; the highest object of 
our complacential delight? Was not thy love to this adorable 
Son, incomparably greater than the tenderest alfection of any, 
or the united affections of all, mortal parents? Was not the 
blessed Jesus more illustrious in excellency, than all angels ; 
more exalted in dignity, than all Heavens? Yet didst thou 
resign him for poor mortals, for vile sinners ! Couldst thou see 
him descend from his royal throne; and take up his abode In 
the sordid stable ? See him forgo the homage of the seraphim ; 
and see him stand exposed to the reproachful indignities of an 
insolent rabble? See him arraigned at the bar, and sentenced 
to death ; numbered with malefactors, and nailed to the gib- 
get; bathed in his own innocent 'blood, and pouring out his 

soul in agonies of sorrow? Could the Father, the father 

himself, with unknown philanthropy^ say, " It shall, it shall, 
be so ! My pity to rebellious man pleads and prevails. Awake, 
therefore, O szvord,l edged with divine wrath ; awake, and 
be sheathed in that immaculate breast ; pierce that dearly-be- 
loved heart. I am content, that my Son endure the sharpness 
of death, rather than sinful mortals perish fo« ever." In- 
comprehensible love ! May it henceforward be the favourite 
subject of my meditation : more delightful to my musing mind, 
than applause to the ambitious ear ! May it be the darling 
theme of my discourse ; sweeter to my tongue than the drop- 
pings of the honey-comb to my taste ! May it be the choicest 
comfort, through all the changes of life ; and my reviving 
cordial even in the last extremities of dissolution itself! 

A prophet contemplating, with a distant survey, the unex- 
ampled instance of Almighty love, is wrapt into a transport of 
devotion. At a loss for proper acknowledgments, he calls up- 
on the whole universe, to aid his labouring breast, and supply 
his lack of praise. Sing melodiously, ye vaulted Heavens ; ex- 
ult, and even leap for gladness, thou cumberous earth ; ye 
mountains brtak your long silence, and burst into peals of loud- 
est acclamation ;§ for the Lord, by this precious gift, and 

* Rom. v. 8. 
f Philanthropy, that is, loving-kindness to man. 



\ Zech. xiii.~7. 

msla- 



§ ha. xlix. 13. — I have not adhered to our common transla- 
tion, but endeavoured to preserve, somewhat more faithfully, 
the noble 'pathos and inimitable energy of the sacred original. — 
The love of God manifested in a divine and dying Saviour, is 
a blessing of such inconceivable richness, as must render all ac- 
knowiedgmentsjtfaf, and all encomiums languid. Yet, I think, 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 87 

this great salvation, hath comforted his people. — A sacred his- 
torian hath left it upon record, that, at the first exhibition of 
this ravishing scene, there was with the angel who brought the 
blessed tidings, a multitude of the Heavenly host, praising 
God, and making the concave of the skies resound with their 
Hallelujahs. At the dawn of the Sun of righteousness, when 
he was beginning to rise with healing in his wings, the morning 
stars Sang together, and all the sons of GOD shouted for joy. 
And shall 7/ian, whom this gracious dispensation principally 
respects ; shall man r who is the centre of all these gladdening 
rays ; shall he have no heart to adore, no anthem to cele- 
brate this 

Love without end, and without measure grace ! Milt. 

How pure is the state of the sky, and how clear its aspect ! 
clearer than the limpid stream ; purer, than the transparent 
chrystai ; and more curiously fine than the polished mirror. 
That stately ceiling, fretted with gold, and stretched to the ex- 
tent of many millions of leagues, is not disfigured with a single 
flaw. That azure canopy, embroidered with stars, and spa- 
cious enough to form a covering' for unnumbered worlds, is 
without the least spot or wrinkle. — Yet this, even this will 
scarce yield us so much as a faint representation of the Divine 
purity, God, is a God of matchless and transcendant excel- 
lency. His ways are uprightness itself. His counsels and 
words are the very sanctity of wisdom and of truth. The laws 
which he has given to universal nature, are exquisitely con- 
trived, and beyond all possibility of improvement. The pre- 
cepts which he has appointed for the human race, are a com- 
plete summary of all that is honourable in itself, and perfective 
of the rational mind. — Not the least over-sight, in planning a 
series of events for all futurity. Not the least m a I-ad ministra- 
tion, in managing the affairs of every age since time began, 
and of every nation under the whole Heavens. — Pardon these 
disparaging expressions. A negative perfection is far, far be- 
neath thy dignity, thou Most Highest J*. In all these in- 

the most poetical and emphatical celebration of that unspeaka- 
ble instance of goodness, is contained in this rapturous excla- 
mation of the prophet. Which intimates with a wonderful 
majesty of sentiment, that even the whole compass of the in- 
animate creation, could it be sensible of the benefit, and capable 
ot delight, would express its gratitude,' in all these demonstra- 
tions ©f the most lively and exhuberant joy. 

* O thou Most Highest ! — This expression occurs more than 
once in the Psalms used by the established church. It is, I 
think, one of those beauties^ which, because often exhibited, ge- 
nerally escapes our notice. It is a superlative formed on a su- 
perlative ; and, though not strictly conformable to grammatical 
rule*, is nobly superior to them all. — The language seems to be 
sensible of its own deficiency, when the incomprehensible Je» 



88 CONTEMPLATIONS 

stances ; in all thy acts, and all thy attributes ; thon art not on- 
ly holy, but glorious in holiness. 

So inconceivably holy is the Lord God of hosts, that he 
sees defilement, even in the brightness of the firmament. The 
living sapphire of the Heavens, before his majesty, loses its 
lustre. Yea the stars (though the most pure and resplendant 
part of the Heavens) are not pure in his sight. How much 
less man, who, in his fallen and depraved state, is but as a 
worm, that crawls in the corrupted carcase; and the son of 
Tftan, who, by reason of his manifold actual impurities, is too 
justly compared to an insect, that wallows amid stench and 
putrefaction?*- Is there not then abundant cause, for the 

hovah is addressed or celebrated. Oppressed, as it were, with 
the glories of the subject, it labours after a more emphatical 
manner of diction, than the ordinary forms of speech afford. — 
It is, if I rightly judge, ^ne of those daring and happy pecu- 
liarities of a masterly genius, which Mr. Pope so iinely de- 
scribes ; and while he describes, exemplifies : 
Great wits sometimes n : ay gloriously offend 
And rise to faults true critics dare not mend : 
From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, 
And snatch a glance beyond the reaeh of art. 

Esc ay on Criticism. 
St. Paw/ has a beautiful passage of the like nature ; which our 
translators have very properly rendered, less than the least of all 
saints. — See Eph. iii. 8. Phil. i. 23. 

* yob xxv. 5, 6. I submit it to the judgment of the Learned, 

whether this is not the true meaning of the text. It may not 

perhaps, recommend itself to the squeamishly -nice Critic ; or to 
those ptersons who dream of, I know not what, dignity in our 
fallen nature. But it seems, in preference to every other in- 
terpretation, suitable to the sacred context ; and is far, far from 
being injurious to the/character of that apostate race, which is 
** altogether become abominable," and " is an unclean thing." 
i — On this supposition, there is not only an apparent, but a very 
striking contrast, between the purity of God, and the pollution 
of man : The purity of the most high God, which outshines the 
moon, and eclipses the stars : the pollution of degenerate man, 
which, exclusive of a Saviour, would render him as loathsome 
to the All-seeing eye, as the vilest vermin are in ours. — With- 
out assigning this sense to the passage, I cannot discern the 
force of the antithesis, nor indeed the propriety of the sentiment. 
Worms, in the general, give us an idea of meanness and infirmity : 
not of defilement and impurity ,• unless they are insects, hatched 
amidst putrefaction, and considered in such noisome circum- 
stances. —The two wrords of the original, are evidently used Jn 
this signification by Moses and Isaiah ; By the former to denote 
the vermin which devoured the putrified manna ; by the latter, 
to express the reptiles which swarm in the body that sees cor- 
rupiion. ExoiL xvi. 20. I&a* xxv. 11. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 69 

most irreproachable and eminent of mankind to renounce all 
arrogant pretensions ; to lay aside every assuming air ; to take 
nothing but shame and confusion to themselves ? A holy Pro- 
phet, and a holy Prince, felt such humbling impressions, from 
a glimpse of the uncreated purity. / abhor myself in dust and 
ashes,* was the declaration of the one ; / am a man of unclean 

lips,\ the confession of the other. Should not this teach us 

all to adore the Divine mercies, for that precious purifying 
fountain^ which was foretold from the foundation of the 
world, but, was opened at that awful juncture, when knotty 
whips tore the flesh ; when ragged thorns mangled the tem- 
ples ; when sharpened nails cut fresh sluices for the crimson 
current; when the gash of -the spear completed the dreadful 
work, and forthwith flowed there, from the wounded heart, 
blood and water ? 

Especially, since God himself saw no blemish in his Dear 
Son. He looketh to the moon, and it shineth not : Yet his all- 
penetrating and jealous eye discerned nothing amiss, nothing 
defective, in our glorious Redeemer. Nothing amiss ? He 
bore this most illustrious testimony concerning his holy child 
Jesus; " In him I 'dmpleased, I am well pleased ; I acquiesce, 
with entire complacency, and with the highest delight, in his 
person ; his undertaking, and the whole execution of his of- 
fice." — How should this thought enliven our hopes, while the 
other mortices our pride ? Should not our hearts spring within 
us, and even leap for joy, at the repeated assurance given us by 
revelation, that such a divinely-excellent person is our Media- 
tor? What apparent reason has every believer, to adopt the 
blessed virgin's exclamation ! " My soul doth magnify the 
LORD, for his transcendant mercy; and my spirit rejoices, 
not in wide extended harvests, waving over my fertile glebe ;§ 
not in armies vanquished, and leaving the peculiar treasure of 
nations for my spoil ;§ but in an infinitely richer, nobler bles- 
sing, even in GOD my Saviour." That a person so sublime 

and perfect, has vouchsafed to become my Surety ; to give 
himself tor my ransom, in the world below; and act as my 
Advocate in the royal presence above ; yea, to make my reco- 
very the reward of his sufferings ; my final felicity* the honour 
of his mediatorial kingdom ! 

* Job xlii 6. f Isaiah vi. 5. 

\ In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of 
David, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin and for un- 
xleanness, Zech. xiii. 1. 

§ § The inspired penman, from these two occasions of dis- 
tinguished joy, sets forth the incomparably greater delight which 
arises from the gift of a Saviour, and the blessing of redemp- 
tion? Isa. ix. ver. 3, compared with ver. 6, 



90 CONTEMPLATIONS 

When an innumerable multitude* of bodies, many of them 
more than a hundred thousand miles in diameter,f and all set 
in motion ;— -when the orbits in which they perform their pe- 
riodical revolutions, are extended at the rate of several hun- 
dreds of millions ;— — when each has a distinct and separate 
sphere for finishing his vast circuit ;— -when no one knows what 
it is to be cramped ; but each most freely expatiates in his un- 
bounded career ; when every one is placed at such an im- 
mense remove from each other, that they appear to their res- 
pective inhabitants, only as so many spots of light : — How 
astonishing must be the expanse, which yields room for all 
those mighty globes, and their widely-diffused operations ! To 
what prodigious lengths did the Almighty Buvlctar stretch his 
line, when he marked out the stupendous platform !— -I wonder 
at such an immeasurable extent. My very thoughts are lost 
in this abyss of space. But be it known to mortals, be it never 
forgot by sinners, that, in all its most surprising amplitude, it 
is small, it is scanty, compared with the bounty and the mercy 
of its maker. 

His bounty is absolutely without limits,} and without end. 
The most lavish generosity cannot exhaust, or even diminish, 
his munificence. O ! all ye tribes of men, or rather all ye 
classes of intelligent creatures, ye are not straitened in the libe- 
rality of your ever blessed Creator ; be not straitened in your 
own expectations. " Open your mouth wide> and he shall 
fill it," with copious and continual draughts from the cup of 
joy. Your god, on whom is your whole depehdance is more 
than able, is more than willing, to u supply all your need, ac- 
cording to his riches in glory ."-^-W hen the Lord Jehovah 

* This refers, not only to the planets, which pass and repass 
about our sun, but also to the other planetary wbrlds, which 
are supposed to attend the several fixed stars. 

f The diameter of Jupiter is calculated at 130,650 miles, while 
his orbit is reckoned to consist of 895,134,000. Which compu- 
tation, according to the maxims of astronomy, and the laws of 
proportion, may, as is taken for granted in the Contemplations, 
be applied to other planets , revolving round other suns. 

\ By bounty, I mean, not the actual exercise, or the sensible 
effects, of this excellency in the Deity. These are, and al- 
ways must be, through the immense perfection of the attribute, 
and the necessary scantines of "the recipient, bounded. But I 
would be understood, as speaking of the divine power and the 
divine will, to exert divine beneficence. These can have no 
real ; no imaginable limits. These, after a profusion of bless- 
ings distributed to unnumbered worlds, continued through un- 
numbered ages, must still have more to bestow ; for ever have 
more to bestow ; infinitely more to bestow, than it is possible 
for creation itself to receive. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. ©1 

is the Giver, and his grace the gift,* let your wishes be un- 
bounded, and your cravings insatiable. Ail that created beings 
can possibly covet, is but a very small pittance to that unknown 
happiness, which the everlasting Benefactor is ready to bestow. 
Suppose every charitable disposition which warms the hearts of 
the human race, added to those more enlarged affections which 
glow in heavenly bosoms; what were they all even in the high- 
est exercise, compared with the benignity of the Divine na- 
ture ?-— B less me, then, thou Eternal Source of Love ; bless all 
that reverence of thy holy name ; according to thy own most 
profuse goodness ; whose great prerogative it is to disdain all 
measure. O ! bless us, in proportion to that grace, the rich- 
ness of which (unutterable by the tongues of men, and of an- 
gels) was once spoken in the groans and written in the wounds, 
of thy expiring Son. 

Spacious indeed are those heavens ! Where do they begin ? 
where do they end ? what is their extent? Can angles answer 
my question? have angels travelled the vast circuit? can an- 
gels measure the bounds of space ? No ; it is boundless, it is 
unknown, it is amazing all. How charming then to reflect, 
that the mercy of GOD is " greater than the Heavens ;*' is 
more extensive than the dimensions of the sky ! transporting 
reflection 1 let me indulge thee once more.f Let me think 
over the delightful displays of this lovely attribute ; and, while 
I admire the trophies of forgiving goodness, add one to the 

number. -With what amiable and affecting colours, is this 

represented in the parable of the prodigal ! What could induce 
that foolish youth to forsake his father's house? Had he not 
been tenderly cherished by the good parent, and loaded with 
benefits from his indulgent hand ? Were not the restraints of 

* 2 Cor. ix. 8. GOD is able to make all grace abound towards 
you, that ye, always having all-sufficiency in all things, may 
abound to every good work. — How beautiful, and emphatical, is 
this descriptionl Inferior to nothing, but that extent of ability, 
and those riches of liberality, which it so eloquently celebrates. 
Does it not exhaust all the powers of language ; while it at- 
ttmps to give us a specimen of tke munificence of the Lord ? 

f Once more, refers to page 68 of Reflections on a Flower 
Garden: The following pages, to p. 95', exhibit a digressive 
view of the divine mercy. I thought it proper to apprise my 
reader of this excursion ; though, I hope, it will be needless to 
offer*an apology, for enlarging upon a theme incomparably 
joyous. Who can complain of tediousness, while I speak con- 
solation to distressed, and recovery to *rined creatures ? The 
divine mercy is the sole fountain of ail o«r present and future 
blessings. In conformity to this benign attribute, human hopes 
arise, and human felicity flows. Who, therefore, can be weary 
of viewing and reviewing ; when the lengths and breadths of 
forgiving grace, are the ravishing prospect ? 



92 CONTEMPLATIONS 

parental government an easy yoke; or rather, a preservative 
from ruin ? Notwithstanding every endearing obligation, iie 
revolts from his duty ; and launches into such scandalous irre- 
gularities, as were dishonourable to his family, and destructive 
to himself. When necessity, not choice, hut sharp necessity, 
drove him to a submissive return ; does the injured father stand 
aloof, or shut his doors ? Quite the reverse, he spies him, while 
be is yet a great way off; and, the moment he beholds the 
profligate youth, he has compassion on him. His bovveis yearn ; 
they " sound iike a harp," touched with notes divinely soft. 
He never once thinks of his ungracious departure, and infa- 
mous debaucheries. Pity, parental pity, passes an act of ob- 
livion ; and, in one instant, cancels a series of long-continued 
provocations — So strong are the workings of fatherly affection, 
that he is almost impatient to embrace the naked and destitute 
wretch. The son's pace is slow, He arose and came ; the fa- 
ther's is swift, He sprung forth, (aged as he was) and ran. 
And is there a single frown in his brow, or one upbraiding word 
on his tongue ?• — Instead of loathing the sordid creature, or 
reproaching him for his odious excesses; he falls on his neck, 
clasps him in his arms, and hugs him to his bosom. Instead 
of disowning the riotous spendthrift, or rejecting him for his 
undutiful behaviour ; he receives and welcomes him with kisses 
of delight. He rejoices at- 1iis return from extravagance and 
vice, as he formerly rejoiced on the day of his nativity. — When 
this companion of har'ots opens his mouth, before he speaks, 
the father hears. He interrupts him, in the midst of his in- 
tended speech. The overflowings of his compassionate heart 
can brook no delay. lie seems to be uneasy himself, till he has 
made the afflicted penitent glad, with the assurance of his ac- 
ceptance, and the choicest of his favours. — While the poor abash- 
ed offender seeks nothing more than not to.be abhorred, he is 
thoroughly reconciled, and honoured before the whole family. 
While he requests no other indulgence, than only to be treated 
as the meanest servant ; he is clothed with the best robe ; he is 
feasted with the fatted calf ; he is caressed as the dearest of 
children. — Was there ever so bright and winning a picture of 
thetenderest mercy, most freely vouchsafed, even to the most 
unworthy of creatures? Yet thus, my soul; and thus, my fel- 
low-sinner ; will the Lord God of everlasting compassion re- 
ceive us, if, sensible of our misery, and thirsting for salvation, 
we turn to him through Jesus Christ. 
Where sin has abounded, says the proclamation from the 

court of Heaven, grace doth much more abound Manasseh 

was a monster of barbarity ; for he caused his own children to 
pass through the fire, and filled Jerusalem with innocent blood. 
Manasseh was an adept in iniquity : for he not only multiplied, 
and to an extravagant degree, his own sacrilegious impieties; 
but he poisoned the principles, and perverted the manners, of 



0N THE STAERY-IIEAVENS. 93 

his subjects, making them do worse than the mo t detestable of 
the Heathen idolaters.* Yet, thro* this superabundant grace, 
he is humbled ; he is reformed ; and becomes a child of for- 
giving love, an heir of immortal glory. — Behold that bitter and 
bloody persecutor Said; when, breathing out threaten! ngs,f and 
bent upon slaughter, lie worried the lambs, and put to death 
the disciples of Jksus. Who, upon the principles of human 
judgment, would not have pronounced 1dm a vessel of wrath, 
destined to unavoidable damnation? nay, would not have been 
ready to conclude, that, if there were heavier chains, and a 
deeper dungeon, in the world of woe, they must surely be re- 
served for such an implacable enemy of true godliness? yet 
(admire and adore the inexhaustible treasures of grace!) this 
Saul is admitted into the goodly fellowship of the Prophets; 
is numbered with the noble army of martyrs ; and makes a dis- 
tinguished figure among the glorious company of the apostles. 
The Corinthians were flagitious, even to a proverb. Some of 
them wallowed in such abominable vices, and habituated them- 
selves to such outrageous acts of injustice, as were a reproach 
to human nature. Yet even those sons of violence, and slaves 
of sensuality, " were washed; were sanctified ; were justified. "% 
Washed, in the precious blood of a dying Redeemer; sancti- 
fied, by the powerful operations of the blessed Spirit ; justified, 
through the infinitely tender mercies of a gracious God. Those 
who were once the burthen of the earth, are now the joy of Hea- 
ven ; "and the delight of angels. 

There is another instance in scripture, which most loudly 
publishes that sweetest of the Divine names, The LORD, the 
LORD GOD, merciful and gracious, long suffering, and abun- 

* See 2 Chron. xxxiii. 
+ Acts xi. 1. Saul yet breathing out threatening and slaughter. — 
What a representation is here of a mind, mad with rage y and 
abandoned to the fiercest extremes of barbarity! I scarce know, 
whether I am more shocked at the persecutor's savage disposi- 
tion, or charmed with the evangelist's lively description. The 
havoc he had committed, the inoffensive families he had alrea- 
dy mined, were not sufficient to assuage his vengeful spirit. 
They were only a taste ; which, instead of glutting the blood- 
hound, made him more closely pursue the tract, and more 
eagerly pant for destruction. He is still athirst for violence 
and murder. So eager and insatiable is his thirst, that he even. 
breathes out threatening and slaughter. His words are spears, 
and arrows, and his tongue a sharp sword. It is as natural for 
him to menace the Christians, as. to breathe the air. Nay, they 
bleed every hour, every moment, in the purposes of his ran- 
courous heart. It is only owing to want of power, that every 
syllable he utters, every breath he draws, dees not deal about 
deaths, and cause some of the innocent disciples to fall. 

\ lCor.vi,9, 10, 11. 

X 



94 CONTEMPLATIONS 

dant in goodness and truth; keeping mercy for thousands^ for- 
giving iniquity, transgression and sin. * An instance this, that 
exceeds all the former: which exceeds whatever can be imagin- 
ed ; which if I was to forget, the very stones might cry out, and 
sound it in my ears. I mean the case of those sinners who 
murdered the Prince of Peace, and Lord of glory. — These 
men could scarce have the shadow of an excuse for their crime ; 
hardly a circumstance to extenuate their guilt. They were 
well acquainted with his exemplary conversation; they had 
often heard his heavenly doctrines; and were almost daily 
spectators of his unequalled miracles. They therefore had all 
possible reason to honour him, as the most illustrious of Beings ; 
and to receive his gospel as the most inestimable of blessings. 
Yet, notwithstanding all these engaging motives to love nTroJ 
even above their own lives, they seize his person, asperse his cha- 
racter; drag him before a Heathen tribunal ; and extort a sen- 
tence of death against innocence and holiness itself. Never was 
the vilest slave so contumeliously abused : nor the most execra- 
ble malefactor so barbarously executed, The sun was con- 
founded at the shocking scene ; and one cannot but wonder, 
how the avenging lightnings could with-hold their flashes. The 
earth trembled at the horrid deed : and why, why did it not 
cleave asunder, and open a passage for such blood-thirsty mis- 
creants, into the nethermost hell? Shall these ever hope toob- 
tain forgiveness from the righteous Judge? Shall not these be 
consigned over to inexorable wrath, and the severest torments? 
O i the miraculous effects of Divine grace ! O the triumphant 
goodness of God our Saviour! Many even of these impious 
wretches, at the descent of the Holy Ghost, were convinced of 
their miserable state ; were wounded with penitential remorse ; 
fled to the sanctuary of the cross ; had their pardon ratified by 
the baptismal seal; and, continuing in the Apostles doctrine, 
were made partakers of the kingdom of Heaven : Where they 
now shine, as so many everlasting monuments of most distin- 
guished mercy ; and receive beatitude past utterance, from 
that very Redeemer whom once " with wicked hand they cru- 
cified and slew." 

Well might the Prophet cry out, with a pleasing amaze- 
ment, " Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity 
and passeth by transgression Tf — Let all flesh know assured- 
ly; let ail flesh rejoice greatly ; that with the Lord there is 
such mercy, and with his Christ such plentiful redemption.— 
And O ! for the voice of an archangel to circulate the glad 
tidings through the universe, that the American savage, as 
w 7 ell as the European sage, may learn the excetdi \g riches of 
grace'm Christ : Through whose infinitely opitiation. 

all manner of sin, barbarity, and bias] eeiy for? 

given unto men. 

* Exod xx: 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 95 

What a grand and niajestic dome is the sky ! Where are the 
pillursXhdX support the stately concave ? What art, most ex- 
actly true, balances the pressure ? What props, of insuperable 
fength sustain the weight ? How is that immeasurable arch 
held, unshaken and unimpaired, while so many generations 
busy mortals have sunk, and disappeared as bubbles upon 
t?ie stream ?— If those stars are of such an amazing bulk, how 
are they also fastened in their lofty situation ? By what miracle 
in mechanics,, are so many thousands of ponderous orbs kept 
from failing upon our heads ; kept from dashing, both the 
world to pieces, and its inhabitants to death ? Are they hung 
in golden or adamantine chains ? Rest they their enormous 
loads on rocks of marble, or columns of brass? — No ; they are 
pendulous in fluid aether ; yet are more immovably fixed, than 
if the everlasting mountains lent their forests for an axle-tree, 
or their ridges for a basis. The Almighty Architect stretches 
out the North, and its whole starry train, over the empty place. 
He hangs the earth, and all the setherial globes upon nothing * 
Yet are their foundations laid so sure, that they can never be 
moved at any time. 

No unfit representation, to the sincere Christian, of his final 
perseverance ;f such as points out the cause which affects it, 

* Job xx vi. 7. 
f With regard to the final perseverance of a true believer, I 
am sensible, this point is not a little controverted. — The senti- 
ments which follow are my steadfast belief.- It is by no means 
proper, in a work of this nature, to enter upon a discussion of 
the subject. Neither have I room, so much as to hint, wtiat 
might be urged for its support. — Let my reader observe, that I 
am.far from delivering it, as essential to Christianity, or neces- 
sary to salvation. Millions, of the very contrary conviction, are, 
I doubt not, high in the favour of God, and a growing meet- 
. ness for his heavenly kingdom As I blame none for rejecting-, 
none, I hope, will be offended with me for espousing, this parti- 
cular doctrine. To be of different opinions, at least in Some in- 
ferior instances, seems an unavoidable consequence of our pre- 
sent state ; where ignorance in part, cleaves to the wisest minds ; 
and prejudice easily besets the most impartial judgments. This 
may turn to our common advantage ; and afford room for the 
display and exercise of those healing virtues, moderation, meek- 
ness and forbearance. Let me only be permitted to ask, whe- 
ther this tenet does not evidently tend to estabUsh the comfort 
of the Christian, and to magnify the fidelity of God our Saviour I 
■whether, far from countenancing sloth, or encouraging remiss- 
ness, to bioiv that our labour shall not be in vain, is not the most 
prevailing inducement to abound in the work of the Lord J I 
Cor. xv. 68. 

Is any one inclined to examine the reasons which made the 
author a proselyte to this persuasion ? He may fiia'd them dis- 
played in a memorial delivered by several select and eminent 



i 



96 CONTEMPLATIONS 

and constitutes the pledge which ascertains it. His nature 

is all enfeebled. He is not able, of himself, to think a good 
thought. He has no visible safeguard, nor any sufficiency of 
his otOn. And yet whole legions of formidable enemies are in 
a confederacy to compass his ruin. The xvorld lays unnumber- 
ed snares for his feet : The devil h incessantly urging the siege 
hy a multitude of fiery darts, or whily temptations: The 
flesh like a perfidious inmate, under colour of friendship, and 
a specious pretence of pleasure, is always forward to betray his 
integrity. — But, amidst all these threatening circumstances of 
ersonal weakness, and eminent danger, an invisible aid is 
is defence. i( I will uphold thee" says the blessed God, 
" with the right hand of my righteousness."* Comfortable 
truth ! the arm, which fixes the stars in their order, and guides 
the planets in their course, is stretched out to preserve the heirs 
of salvation. — (i My sheep" adds the great Redeemer, "are 
mine ; and they snail never perish ; neither shall any pluck 
them out of my hand."\ What words are these ! and did they 
come from Him, who hath all power in Heaven, and on earth ! 
and were they spoken to the weakest of the flock, to every un- 
feigned follower of the great Shepherd ? Then omnipotence it- 
self must be vanquished, before they can be destroyed, either 
by the seductions of fraud, or the assaults of violence. 

If you ask, therefore, What security we have of enduring to 
the end, and continuing faithful unto death? — The very same 

Divines of the Church of England^ at the renowned Synod of 
JDordt.r~(See Acta Synod Dordrech par. II. p. 246, of the Latin 
edit, published in a single quarto volume.) — Those who have no 
opportunity of consulting the memoirs of that venerabfe assem- 
bly, I would refer to the works of the indefatigable and very 
learned Turrettine, or to those of the candid and elegant Witsius. 
Turret, torn. II. q- xvi. Wits. Oecon. lib. in. chap, xiii 

The latest and fullest view of the point, which I ever remem- 
ber to have met with in any of our English writers, is in the 
£,irne-vt??*t'UQtures- Which are a defence of several most im- 
portant doctrines oi the gospel, ana contained in two octavo vol- 
umes ; the united labours of nine modern divines ; the most of 
whom are well known to the world by their other evangelical 
and useful writings. In those lectures, the final perseverance 
of the saints is very particularly stated, and, to my apprehen- 
sion at least, most satisfactorily proved. The arguments, usu- 
ally argued against it, are impartially considered ; and I cannot 
but think (with all due deference to the judgment of others) 
unanswerably confuted. 

And here (not to swell this note any farther) I shall only just 
hint, that the judicious Hooker { an authority, perhaps as weighty 
and unexceptionable as any that can well be produced) gives a 
solemn attestation to this tenet, in a short discourse on the perpe- 
tuity of faith, subjoined to his Ecclesiastical Polity , fol. edit, 
* Isa.xli. 10, f John x. 28. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 97 

that establishes the Heavens, and settles the ordinances of the 
universe. Can these be thrown into confusion?* Then may 
the true believer draw back unto perdition. Can the sun be 
dislodged from his sphere, and rush lawlessly through the sky ? 
Then, and then only, can the faith of God's electf be finally 
overthrown.— — Be of good courage then, my soul; rely on 
those Divine succours, which are so solemnly stipulated, so 
faithfully promised. Though thy grace be languid as the glim- 
mering spark ; though the overflowings of corruption threaten 
it with total extinction ; yet, since the great Jehovah has un- 
dertaken to cherish the dim principle, « many waters cannot 
quench it, nor all floods drown it." Nay, though it were fee- 
ble as the smoking flax,% goodness and faithfulness stas^d en- 
gaged, to augment the heat ; to raise the hre, and feed the 
flame; till it beam forth a lamp ot immortal glory, in the 
Heavens. 

As to the faithfulness of a covenanting God, this may be 
emblematically seen in the stability -of ; the heavenly bodies, and 

the perpetuity, of their motions § Those that are fixed or 

stationary, continue unalterable in their grand elevations. 1 No 
injurious shocks, no violence of conflicting elements, are able 
to displace those everlasting hinges, on which dependant worlds 
revolve. Through the whole flight of time, they recede not, 
so much as a hair's breadth, from the precise central point of 
their respective systems — while the erratic, or planetary, per- 

* Jer.xxxi, 35, 36. t Tit. u% 

\ The tenderness and faithfulness of God to his people, are 
finely pictured by the prophet Isaiah, chap. xlii. ver. 3. Which 
passage, because of its rich consolation, and uncommon beauty, 
is deservedly adopted by St. Matthew, and ingrafted into the 
system of evangelical truths. — He will ■ not himself break, nor 
suffer to be broken by any other, the bruised reed : nor quench the 
smoking flax. Was it possible to have chosen two more delicate 
and expressive representations ? — Could any image be more 
significant of a very infirm and enfeebled fa itb, than the flexile 
reed, that bends before every wind ! which, besides its natural 
weakness, is made abundantly weaker by being bruised, and so 
is ready to fall in pieces of itself. Or could any thing, with a 
more pathetical exactness, describe the extreme imbecility of 
that other principle of the Divine life, lore? The state of the 
flax, just beginning to burn is liable to be put out by the least 
.blast : More liable still is the wick of the lamp, when it is not 
so much as kindled into a glimmering feme, but only breathing- 
smoke, and uncertain whether it shall take fire or no. —Yet true 
faith and heavenly love, though subsisting amidst such pitiable 
infirmities, will not be abandoned by their great Author ; shr/U 
not be extinguished by any temptation ; but be maintained,, 
invigorated, aud made finally triumphant. ..Matth. xii. 20.- 
VFsah cxix. 89, 90. 
X 9 



98 CONTEMPLATIONS 

form their prodigious stages, without -any intermission, or the 
least embarrassment. How soon, and how easily, is the most 
finished piece of human machinery disconcerted ! But all the 
celestial movements are so nicely adjusted, ail their operations 
so critically proportioned, and thm mutual dependencies so 
strongly connected, that they prolong their beneficial courses 
throughout al! ages. \X luitmigfity cities are overwhelm- 
ed with ruin, and their very names lost m oblivion ; while vast 
empires are swept from their foundations, and leave not so 
much. as a shadowy trace of their ancient magnificence ; while 
all terrestrial tilings are subject to vicissitude, and fluctuating 
in uncertainty : These are permanent in their duration ; these 
are invariable in their functions*. " Not one faileth."— — Who 
doubts the constant succession of day and night, or the regu- 
lar ; returns of Summer and Winter? And why, O ! why shall 
we doubt the veracity of God, or distrust the accomplishment 
of l>]s holy word? Can the ordinances of Heaven depart ?— — . 
Then only can God forget to be gracious, or neglect the per- 
formance of his promise. — Nay, our .Lord gives us yet firmer 
ground of affiance. He affords us a surer bottom for our faith, 
than thefundamental latvs of the universe, Heaven and earth, 
says he, shall pass aicay ; but ?hy words shall not; in a single 
instance, or in one tittle of their import, pass aiuay. No : His 
sacred word, whatever may obstruct it, whoever may oppose 
it, shall be fulfilled to the very uttermost. 

O powerful word ! how astonishing is its efficacy ! When 
this world was issued forth, a thousand worlds emerged out of 
nothing. Should the mighty orders be repeated, a thousand 
more wouid spring into existence. By this word, the vast sys- 
tem of created things is upheld, in constant and immutable 
perfection. Should it give command, or cease to exert its 
energy, the universal frame would he dissolved, and all Nature 
revert to her original chaos. And this very word is pledged 
for the safety, the comfort, the happiness of the godly. This 
inviolable, this almighty word, speaks in all the promises of 
the gospel. — How strangely infatuated are our souls, that we 
should Value it so little ? What infidels are we in fact, that we 
should depend upon it no more ? Did it create whatever has a 
being; and shall it not ivork faith in our breasts? Do unnum- 
bered worlds owe their support to this word ; and shall it not 
be sufficient to buoy up our souls in trouble, or establish them 
Ln trials ? Is it the life of the universe ; and shall it be a dead 
letter to mankind ? 

If J wish to be heard when I implore heavenly blessings ; is 
not this privilege most clearly made over to my enjoyment, in 
that well-known text, " Ask, and it shall be given you?"* — 
If I long for the Eternal comforter, to dwell in my heart, and 
Sanctify my nature; have I not an apparent title'to this high 

* Matth. vii. T- ' 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 99 

prerogative, conferred in that sweet assertive interrogative, 
" How much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy 

Spirit to those that ask him?"* It t earnestly covet the in- 

t ; :,timable treasures that are comprised in the great Immanu- 
el's mediation ; can I have a firmer claim to the noble portion, 
tj&{] is granted in that most precious scripture; " Ilim that 
cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out r"f— What assurance 
of being interested in these unspeakable mercies would I de- 
sire ? \\ natfonu of conveyance, what deed of settlement, were 
it left to my own option, should 1 chuse \ Here is the word of 
a King ; the King immortal and invisible; all whose declara- 
tions are truth itself. £ — If a monarch bestow immunities on a 
body of men, and confirms them by an authentic charter ; no 
one controverts, no one questions, their right to the royal fa- 
vours. And why should we suspect the validity of those glo- 
rious grants, which are made by the Everlasting Sovereign of 
Nature ; which he has also ratified by an oath, and sealed 
with the blood of his Son? Corporations may be disfran- 
chised, and charters revoked. Even mountains may be remo- 
ved, and stars drop from their spheres : But a tenure founded 
on the Divine promise, is unaiienably secure, is tasting a$ 
eternity itself. 

We have endeavoured to speH a syllable of Vne Eternal 
name, in the ancient manuscript of the sky. We have catched 
a glimpse of the Almighty's glory, from the lustre of innume- 
rable stars. But would we behold all his excellencies pourt rayed 
in full perfection, and drawn to the very life; let us attentively 
consider the Redeemer.— I observe, there are some parts of 
the firmament, in which the stars seem, as it were, to cluster. 
They are sown thicker, they lie closer, than usual ; and strike 
the eye with redoubled splendor. Like the jewels on a crown, 
they mingle their beams, and reflect an increase of brilliancy 
- on each other.- — Is there not such an assemblage, such a con- 
stellation of the Divine honours, most amiably effulgent in the 
blessed Jesus > 

Does not infinite wisdom§ shine, with surpassing brightness, 
in Christ ? To the making of a world, there was no obstacle ; 
but to the saving of man, there seemed to be insurmountable 
bars. If the rebel is suffered to escape, where is the inflexi- 
ble justice, which denounces " death as .the wages of sin } n 
If the offender is thoroughly pardoned, where is the inviolable 
veracity, which has so solemnly declared, " the soul that sin- 
netii shall die?" These awful attributes are set Hi terrible ar- 
ray ; and, like an impenetrable battallion, oppose the salvation 

* Luke ix. 13. t J *™ vL 37. 

\ - If these fail, 

The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, 
And earth's base built on stubble. Milt. Comm. 

§ See the next note. 



100 CONTEMPLATIONS 

of apostate mankind. Who can suggest a method to absolve 
the traitorous race, yet vindicate the honours, of' Almighty So- 
vereignty? This is an intricacy, which the most exalted of fi- 
nite intelligences are unable to clear. But behold the un- 
searchable secrets revealed ! revealed in the wonderful redemp- 
tion, accomplished by a dying Saviour ! so plainly revealed, 
that " he who runs may read f and even babes understand, 
■what minds of the deepest penetration could not contrive.— — 
The Son of God, taking our nature, obeys the law, and un- 
dergoes death, in our stead. By this means, the threatened 
curse is executed in all its rigour, and free grace is exercised 
in all its riches. Justice maintains her rights, and with a steady 
hand, administers impartial vengeance ; while mercy dispen- 
ses her pardons, and welcomes the repentant criminal into the 
tenderest embraces. Hereby the seemingly thwarting attri- 
butes are reconciled. The sinner is saved, not only in full 
consistence with the honour of the Supreme perfections, but 
to the most illustrious manifestations of them all." 

Where does the Divine power* so signally exert itself, as 
in the cross of Christ, and in the conquest of grace ? — Our 
Lord, in his lowest state of humiliation, gained a more glo- 
rious victory, than when, through the divine sea, and the waste 
howling wilderness, he " rode upon his chariots and horses of 
salvation." When his hands were rivetted, with irons, to the 
bloody tree; he disarmed death of its sting, and plucked the 
prey from the jaws of hell. Then, even then, while he was 
crucified in iveakness, he vanquished the strong man, and sub- 
dued our most formidable enemies; Even then, he spoiled 
principalities, triumphed over the powers of darkness, and led 
captivity captive. Now he is exalted to his heavenly throne, 
with what a prevailing efficacy does his grace go forth, " con- 
quering, and to conquer !"-— -By this, the slaves of sin are res- 
cued from their bondage, and restored to the liberty of righte- 
ousness. By this, depra\ed wretches, whose appetites were 
sensual, and their dispositions devilish, are not only renewed, 
but renewed after the image of God, and made partakers of 
a Divine nature. Millions, millions of lost creatures, are 
snatched, by the interposition of Grace, like brands from the 
burning ; and translated into everlasting mansions, shine bright- 
er than the .stars, shine bright as the sun, in the kingdom of 
their Father. 

Would you then see an incomparably more bright display of 
the Divine excellence, than the unspotted firmament, the 
spangles of Heaven, or the golden fountain of day, exhibit? 

* Christ, the wisttom of GO 3, and the power of GOD. 1 Cor. 

i. 24.- To the intent that now, unto the principalities and powers 

in heavenly places, might be known by the church (by the amazing; 
contrivance, and accomplishment of its redemption) the deep, 
€*tensive, ^nd greatly diversified wisdcm of GOD. Eph, iii. 10. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 161 

Contemplate Jesus of Nazareth. He is the brightness of his 
Father's glory, and the express image of his person In his 
immaculate nature, in his heavenly temper, in his most holy 
life ; the moral perfections of the Deity are represented to the 
highest advantage.*-— Hark! how Mercy, with her charm- 
ing voice, speaks in all he utters. See ! how Benevolence 
pours her choicest stores, in all he does. Did ever Compassion 
look so amiably soft, as in those pitying tears, which swelled 
his eyes, and trickled down his cheeks, to bedew therancouF 

of his in veterate enemies ?- Was it possible for Patience to 

assume a form so lovely, as that sweetly-winning conduct, 
which bore the contradiction of sinners ; which entreated the 
obstinate to be reconciled, besought the guilty not to die?— 
In other things, we may find some scattered rays of Jeho- 
vah's glory ; but in Christ, they are all collected and uni- 
ted. In Christ they beam forth, with the strongest radiance, 
with the most delightful effulgence. Out of Sion, and in Siorfs 
great Redeemer, hath GOD appeared in perfect beauty. 

Search then, my soul, above all other -pursuits, search the 
records of redeeming love. Let these be the principle objects 
of thy study. Here employ thyself with the most unwearied 
assiduity.— In these are hid all the treasures' of wisdom and 
knowledge. + Such wisdom, as charms and astonishes the very 
angels; engages their closest attention, and fills them with the 
deepest adoration.]: Such knowledge, as qualifies the posse*- 

* In this sense, that saying of our Lojtn is eminently true, 
Be that hath seen ME, bath seen the FAT&EM* Joan, xiv. 9. 

•(■ Coloss. ii. 3. -Not a mean degree, but a treasure ; not 

one treasure, but many / not many only, but all treasures, of 
true wisdom and saving knowledge; are in Christ, and his 
glorious gospel.— The transcendent excellency of those trea- 
sures seem to be finely intimated, in that other expression, 
bid ; laid Up ; with the utmost $a*re, and the greatest safety. 
Not left at all a^v^ntu^. *~ * De st *m%ied u*p~n by every giddy 
wanderer ; or to fall into the arms of the yawning sluggard ; 
but, like jewels of the brightest lu$tre, or riches of the highest 
value, kept in store to adorn and reward the diligent searcher. 

% This, I believe, is the import of the apostle's language, 
though it is not a literal translation. 1 Pet. i. 12.< — minever 
had such a lively apprehension of the beautiful significancy of 
the last word, as when I have attended. a dissection of some 
part of the animal body. In order to discern the minutce of the 
admirable frame ; the latent wonders of art and mechanism ; 
the eye is so sharpened, and its application so intensely bended ', 
as gives a very just experimental comment on that expressive 
phrase. — With such earnest attention, is the everlasting gospel 
contemplated by the angelic orders ! how much more, if it were 
possible, does it deserve the devout and incessant consideration 
of human minds ? Since, by them, it is not only to be speculated, 
as a bright and ravishing display of the divine attributes ; but 



102 CONTEMPLATIONS 

s'or, if not for offices of dignity on earth, yet for the most ho* 
nourable advancements inthe' kingdom of heaven. Disunited 
from which knowledge, all application is but elaborate im- 
pertinence; and all science, no better than pompous ignorance. 
The records contain the faultless model of duty, and the no- 
blest motives to obedience. Nothing so powerful tP work a 
lively faith, and a joyful hope, as an attentive consideration of 
our Lord's unutterable merit?, Nothing so sovereign to an- 
tidote the pestilental .influence of the world, and deliver our 
affections from a slavery of ignoble objects, as an habitual re- 
membrance of his extreme agonies. The genuine, the ever 
fruitful source of all morality, is the unfeigned love of Christ, 
and the cross : the Cross is the -appointed* altar, from which 
we may fetch a cqal,t to enkindle this sacred fire. 

Behold, therefore, the man ; the matchless and stupendous 
man ; whose practice was a pattern of the most exalted virtue, 
and his person the mirror of every Divine perfection. Exa- 
mine the memoirs of his heavenly temper and exemplary con- 
versation. Contemplate that choir of graces, which were as- 
sociated in his mind, and shed the highest lustre on all his ac- 
tions. Familiarize to thy thoughts his instructive discourses, 
and enter into the very spirk of his refined doctrines : That the 
graces may be transfused into thy breast, and the doctrines 
transcribed in. thy life. — Follow him to Caharys horrid emi- 
nence ; to Calvary's fatal catastrophe: Where innocence, dig- 
nity and merit, were made perfect through sufferings : each 
shining, with all possible splendour, through the tragical scene ; 
somewhat like his own radiant bow, then glowing with the 
greatest beauty, when appearing on the darkest cloud. — Be thy 
most constant attention fixed on that lovely and sorrowful spec- 
tacle. Behold the spotless victim nailed to the tree, and stab- 
bed to the heart. Bear frim pouring out prayers for his mur- 
derers, before he poured out his soul for transgressors. See the 
-wounds that stream wrfn forgiveness, and Weed balm for a dis- 
tempered world. O ! see thi justice of the Almighty, and his 
goodness ; his mercy and his vengeance ; every tremendous and 
gracious attribute manifested, manifested with inexpressible 
glory, in that most ignominious, yet grandest, of transactions. 

Since God is so inconceivably great, as these his marvellous 
works declare ; 

to be applied to their fallen nature, as a most benign scheme of 
recovering grace ; as the sure and only method of obtaining life 
and immortality. 

* And I, says our Lord, if I be lifted up from the earthy and 
extended on the cross, will draw all men unto me: will give such 
a rich and transcendant display of my love, as shall constitute 
the most powerful and prevailing attractive of theirs. John 
xii. 32. 

f Alluding to Isaiah vi. 6, . 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 103 

Since the great Sov'reign sends ten thousand worlds, 
To tell us, lie resides above them all, 
In glory's unapproachable access ;* • 
how can we forbear hastening, with Moses, bowing ourselves 
to the earth, and worshipping? O! what an honourable as 
well most advantageous employ is prayer! Advantageous. 
By prayer, we cultivate that improving correspondence with 
JEHOVAH ; we carry on that gladdening intercourse with his 
Spirit, which must begin here, in order to.be completed in 

eternity. 'Honourable. By prayer, we have access to that 

mighty Potentate, whose sceptre sways universal Nature, and 
whose rich regalia fills the skies with lustre. Prayer places us 
in his presence-chamber; while the "blood of sprinkling" 
procures us a gracious audience. 

Shall I then blush to be found prostrate before the throne of 
grace? Shall 1 be ashamed to have it known, that I offer up 
social supplications in the family, or am conscientious in ob- 
serving my private retirements ? Rather let me glory in this 
noblest posture, to fall low on my knees before his foot-stool; 
and the highest honour, to enjoy communion with his most ex- 
alted Majesty. — Incomparably more noble, than to sit, in per- 
son, on the triumphal chariot; or to stand, in effigy, amidst 
the temple of worthies. 

Most inestimable, in such a view, is that promise, which' »o 
often occurs in the prophetic writings, and is the crowning be- 
nefit of the new covenant, / ..will be thy GOD.-f— -Will this 
supremely excellent and -Almighty Being - vouchsafe to-be my 
portion? to settle upon a poor- sinner, not the heritage of a 
country, not the possession of the whole earth ; but his own 
ever-blessed selff May I then, through his free condescend- 
ing grace, and the unknown merits of his Son, look upon all 
these infinitely noble attributes as my treasure ? May I regard 
the wisdom, which superintends such a multitude of worlds^ 
as my guide ; the power, which produced, and preserves them 
in existence, as my guard ; the goodness, which, by an endless 

* For this quotation, and several valuable bints, I acknowledge 
I myself indebted to those beautiful and sublime poems, entitled, 
I Night-Thozights.— Q£ which I shall only say that I receive fresh 
pleasure, and richer improvement, from every renewed perusal. 
And, I think, I shall have reason to bless the indulgent Bestow- 
I er, of all wisdom, for these instructive and animating compo- 
sitions, even in my last moments. Than which nothing can 
more emphatically speak their superior excellence? nor give a 
more solid satisfaction to their worthy: author-~Happy should 
I think myself, if these little sketches of contemplative devotion 
might be honoured with the most inferior degree of the same 
success ; might receive a testimony, notfrom the voice of fame, 
but from the dying lips of some edified Christian ! 
f Heb. viii. 10. 



104 CONTEMPLATIONS 

communication of favours, renders them all so 'many bab: 
tions of happiness, as,m?/ exceeding great rewur^i f— What a 
fund of felicity is included in such a blessing! How often does 
the Israelitish Prince exult in the assurance, that this uuuuer* 
able and boundless good is his own ? Interested in this, he bids 
defiance to every evil that can be dreader!, and rests in certain 
expectation of every blessing that can be desired. The LORD 
is my light, and my salvation : whom then shall I fear f The 
LORD-— (with an a?r of exultation, he repeats both his affiance, 
and his challenge) is the strength of my life ; ffi%3i6m fieri 
shall I be afraid!* — Nothing so effectual, as this appropriating 
faith, to inspire dignity of mind, superior to transitory trifks; 
or to create a calmness of tempeiyunalarined by vulgar fears, 
unappalled by death itself. — The LORD is my 'shepherd, says 
the same truly gallant and heroic personage: Therefore shall 
I lack nothing.^ How is it possible, he should suffer want, 
"who has the all-sufficient fulness for his supply? So long as 
unerring Wisdom is capable of contriving the means, so long 
as uncontrouiable power is able to execute them ; such a one 
cannot fail of being safe and happy, whether he continue 
amidst the vicissitudes of time, or depart into the unchangeable 
eternity. 

Here, let us stand a moment, and humbly contemplate this 
great God, together with ourselves, in a relative view. — If we 
reflect on the works of material nature, their number incom- 
prehensible, and their extent immeasurable ; each of them 
apart, so admirably framed; the connexions of the whole, so 
exquisitely regulated; and all derived from one and the same 
glorious agent. If we recollect the far more noble accom- 
plishments of elegant taste, and discerning judgment ; of re- 
fined affections, and exalted sentiments ; which are to be found 
among the several orders of intelligent existence ; and all of 
them flowing in rich emanations, from the one sole fountain of 
intellectual light. — tf we farther consider this Author of mate- 
rial beautv, and moral excellence, as a guardian, governor^ 
and benefactor, to all his creatures : supporting the whole sys- 
tem, and protecting each individual, by an ever-watchlul 
Providence; presiding over the minutest affairs, and causing 
all events to terminate in the most extensive good; heaping, 
with unremitted liberality, his benefits upon every capable ob- 
ject, and making the circuit of the universe a seminary of hap- 
piness. Is it possible for the human heart, under such cap- 
tivating views, to be indifferent towards this most benign, most 
bountiful Original of being and of bliss? Can any be so im- 
mersed in stupidity, as to say unto the Almighty in tho 

language of an irreligious temper, and licentiows life, to say, 
f ' Depart from us, we implore not thy favour; nor desire the 
knowledge of thy ways ?" — — Wonder, O Heavens ! be ama- 

* Psal. xxvii. 1. t P sa ^« xxiii. 1. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 105 

zed, O Earth ! and let the inhabitants of both express their 
astonishment, at this unparalleled complication of disingenu- 
ous, ungrateful, destructive perverseness. 

If we consider our fallen and imperfect state; frail in our 
b >dies, enfeebled in our minds, in every part of our constitu- 
tion, and in ail the occurrences of life, " like a tottering wall, 
or a broken hedge."— — If we survey our indigent and infirm 
state, without holiness, without spiritual strength ; our posses- 
sion of present inconveniences entirely dependant on God's 
so ve reign pleasure; yea, forfeited, justly forfeited, with every 

future hope, by a thousand aggravated iniquities. -If we 

add the various disasters of our condition ; agitated as we are 
by tumultuous passions; oppressed with dispiriting fears ; held 
hi suspense by a variety of perplexing* cares ; liable to pains, 
and exposed to troubles ; troubles from every quarter ; troubles 
of every kind :— Can we, amidst so many wants, under such 
deplorable infirmities, and subject to such disastrous accidents 
can we be unconcerned, whether God's omnipotent, ir- 
resistible, all-conducting hand be, against us, or for us ? Ima- 
gination itself shudders at the thought i — Can^we rest satisfied, 
without a well-grounded persuasion, that we are reconciled to 
the supreme Lord, and the objects of his unchangeable good- 
ness!—— If there be an abandoned wretch, whose apprehen- 
sions are so fatally blinded ; who is so utterly lost to all sense of 
his duty, and of his interest ; let me bewail his misery while 
I abhor his impiety : Bewail his misery, though popularity, 
with her choicest laurels adorn his brow; though affluence, with 
her richest delicacies, load his table ; though half a nation, 
or half a world, conspire to call him happy. 

May I, by a believing application, solace myself in this ever- 
lasting source of love, perfection and joy ! Grant me this re- 

* Perplexing. Those who read the original language of 

the New Testament, are sufficiently apprized that such is the 
significancy of that benevolent dissuasive urged by our Lord, 
Mattb. vi. 25. — I beg leave, for the sake of the unlearned ^ rea- 
der to observe, that our translation, though for the most part 
faithful and excellent, has here misrepresented our Divine Mas- 
ter's meaning. Take no thought for your food, for your raiment, 
for your bodily welfare, is not only not the true sense, but the 
very reverse of this scriptural doctrine. We are required to 
take a prudent and moderate thought for the necessaries of life. 
The sluggard who neglects this decent precaution, is severely 
reprimanded ; is sent to one of the meanest animals to blush 
for his folly, and learn discretion from her conduct, Prov. vi. 6. 
Our Saviour's precept, and the exact sense of his expression is, 
Take no anxious thought; indulge no perplexing care ; no such 
care, a* may argue an unreasonable distrust of Providence, or 
may rend and tear your minds with distressing and pernicious 
i solicitude. 

Y 



106 CONTEMPLATIONS 

quest, and I ask no more. — Only, that I may expect, not with 
a reluctant anxiety, but with a ready cheerfulness, the arrival 
of that important hour, when this veil of flesh shall drop, and 
the shadows of mortality flee away : When I shall no longer 
complain of obscure knowledge, languid affections, and im- 
perfect fruition ;-— but shall see the uncreated and immortal 
Majesty ; see him, not in this distant and unarTecting method 
of reasoning from his works; but with the most clear and direct 
intuition of the mind: — — -When I shall love him, not with 
a cold and contracted spirit ; but with the most lively and en* 
larged emotions of gratitude :— -When I shall incessantly enjoy 
the light of his countenance ; and be united, inseparably unit- 
ed, to his all-glorious Godhead. Take, ye ambitious* 
unenvied and unopposed, take yourselves the toys of state. 
May I be enabled to rejoice in this blessed hope; and to tri- 
umph in that amiable, that adorable,, that delightful name, the 
Lord my God .! and I shall scarce bestow a thought on the 
splendid pageantry of the world, unless it be to despise its 
empty pomp, and to pity its .deluded admirers. 

AH these bodies, though immense in their size, and almost 
infinite in their multitude, we obedient io the Divine command. 
The God of wisdom, " telleth their numbers," and is inti- 
mately acquainted with their various properties. The God of 
power, «* calleth them all by their names f and assigns them 
whatsoever office he pleases. He marshals all the starry legions, 
with infinitely greater ease and nicer order,, than the most ex- 
pert General arranges his disciplined troops. He appoints 
their posts; he marks their route ; he fixes the time for their 
return. The posts which he appoints, they occupy without 
fail. In the rout which he settles, they persevere without the- 
least deviation. And to the instant* which he fixes for their 
return, they are precisely punctual.- He has given them a 
law, which through a long revolution of ages, shall not be 
broken, unless his sovereign will interposes for its repeal. Then 
indeed, the motion of the celestial orbs is controuled, their 
actions remain suspended; or their influence receives a new 
direction.— — The sun, at his creation, issued forth with a com- 
mand, to travel perpetually through the Heavens. Since 
which, he has never neglected to perform the great circuit ? 
" rejoicing as a giant to run his race." But, when it is requi- 
site to accomplish the purposes of Divine love, the orders are 
countermanded ; the flaming courier remits his career ; stand 

* " The planets and all the inn wrier able hast of heavenly 
bodies perform their courses and' revolutions with sp much cer^ 
tarrtty arid exactness/ as nevei; once to fail ; but, for almos' 
6000 years j come const ir'ly :,i: j jt to the/ s am s, period, in th< 
hun dvedth part of a m i n i > tack h c u s e s's Hkt* Mikfa 






ON TSHE STAftRY-HEAVENS. to? 

Mill in Qibeon;* and, for the eonveniency of the chosen peo- 
ple, holds back the falling day.— The moon was dispatched 
•with a charge, never to intermit her revolving course, till day 
and night come tp .an end, But when the children of Provi- 
dence are to be favoured with an uncommon continuance of 
light,- she halts in her march, makes a solemn pause in the B&fi 
ley of Ajalon } \ and delays to bring on her attendant train of 
shadows.-- — —When the enemies of the Lord are to be dis- 
comfited, the stars are levied into the service; the stars are 
armed, and take the field; the stars, in their courses, fought 
against Suera,X . 

So dutiful is material nature ! so obsequious in all her forms, 

to her Creator's pleasure* -The bellowing thunders, listen 

tO'hls voice, and the vollied lightnings, observe the direction 
of his eye. The flying storm and impetuous whirlwind, wear 
his yoke. The raging waves revere his nod : they shake the 
earth ; they <*ash the skies; yet never offer to pass the limits 
Which he has prescribed.— — Even the planetary spheres, tho' 
"vastly larger than the wide extended earth, are in his hand, as 

* This is spoken in conformity to the scripture language, and 
according; to the common notion. With respect to the power 
which effected tire alteration, it is much the same thing-, and 
alike miraculous, whether the sun or the earth, be supposed 
to move, 

t *fosb. x. 12, 13.— The Prophet Rabakkuk, according to his 
lofty manner j celebrates this event ; and points out, in very poeti- 
cal dictien, the design of so surprising a miracle. — The sun and 
moon stood still in their habitations : In the tight, the long contin- 
ued and miraculous light, thy arrows, edged with destruction, 
walked on their awful errand ; in the clear shining of the day, 
protracted for this very purpose, thy glittering spear, launched 
by the people, but guided by thy hand, sprung to its prey. 
Mab. in. 11. 

% 5^%- ' V- 20. — The spiritual phrase fought against, will, I 
hope be a proper warrant for every expression I have used On 
this occasion. —The passage is generally supposed to signify, 
' that some very dreadful meteors (which the stars were thought 
to influence) such as fierce flashes of lightning, impetuous showers 
of rain, and rapid storms of hail, were employed by the Al- 
mighty, to terrify, annoy, and overthrow the enemies of Israel. 
If so, there cannot be a more clear and lively paraphrase on the 
text, than those fine lines of a Jewish writer. — His severe wrath 
shall HE sharpen for a sword ; andihz world shall fight with him, 
against the ungodly. Then shall the right-aiming thunderbolts go 
abroad / and from the clouds, as from a well-drawn bow, shall 
they fly to the mark. And hail-stones full of wrath shall be cast 
out of a stone bow ; and the water of the sea shall ra^t against 
them f and the floods (as was the case of the river KisbonJ shall 
cruelly drown them ; yea, a mighty wind shall stand up against them; 
and, like a storm, shall blow them away, Wisd. V. 20, 21>22, 23. 



108 CONTEMPLATIONS 

clay in the hands of the potter. Though, stiver than the 
northern blast, they sweep the long tracts of an her; yet are 
they guided by his reins, and execute whatever fie enjoins. 
All these enormous globes of central tire, which beam through 
the boundless azure ; in comparison of which, an army of .pla- 
nets were like a swarm of summer insects ; those, even those, 
are conformable to his will, as the melted wax to the impressing 
seal. — -^Since fl//, all is obedient, throughout the whole as- 
cent of things, shall man be the only rebel against the almigh- 
ty Maker ? shall .these unruly appetites reject his government, 
and refuse their allegiance? Shall these headstrong passions, 
break loose from Divine restraint ; and run wild, in exorbitant 
sallies, after their own imaginations) 

O my soul, be stung with remorse, and overwhelmed with 
confusion, at the thought! Is it not a righteous thing, that the 
blessed God should sway the sceptre, with the most absolute 
authority, over all the creatures which -his pow<* has formed? 
Especially over those creatures, whom his distinguished favour 
has endued with a noble principle of reason, and made capable 
of a blissful immortality ? Sure, if all the ranks of inanimate 
existence, conform to their Maker's decree, by the necessity 
of their nature; this most excellent race of beings, should pay 
their equal- homage, by the willing compliance of their affec- 
tions* — Come then, all ye faculties of my mind, come all ye 
Dowers of my body; give up yourselves, without a ■■moment's 
delay, without the jeast reserve, to his governance. Star*!, 
h.kz dutiful servants at his footstool; in an everlasting rea- 
diness, to dp whatsoever he requires ; to be whatever he ap- 
points. To further, with united efforts, the purposes of his 
*\bry in this earthly scene : or else to separate, without reluc- 
tance, at his summons > the one, to sleep in the dust ; the other, 

• '.'Lis argument, I acknowledge, is not absolutely conclu- 
sive. But It is popular and striking. Nor can I think myself 
obliged, in such a work, wherejancy hears a considerable sway, 
to proceed always with the caution and exactness of a disputer 
in the schools. If there be some appearance of analogy between 
the fact and the inference, it seems sufficient for my purpose ; 
though the deduction should not be necessary, nor the process 
strictly syllogistical.- — One of the apostolic fathers has an affect- 
ing and sublime paragraph, which runs entirely in this form : 
l 2'he sun j the moon, and the starry choir, without the least deviation, 
ana with the utmost harmony, ptrform the revolutions appointed, 
them by the Svpreme decree. From which remark, and abun- 
dance of other similar instances, observable in the oeconOmy of 
Nature; he exhorts Christians to a cordial unanimity among 
themselves, and a dutiful obedience to God. Vid. Clem- -Ro- 
man. 1. ep. ad Corinth, sect. 20. — See also a beautiful ode in Dr, 
Watts* Lyric Poems, entitled, The Comparison and Complaint , 
which turns upon this very thought. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 109 

lo'advatice Ins honour, in some remoter colony of his kingdom. 
jj^Iiyais m-iy-i join with ail the works of the Lord, in all pla- 
ces of his dominion, to recognize his universal supremacy, and 
x.Ujni him sovereign of souls, as well as Ruler of worlds* 

A f hi '? $ht coming abroad, all these luminaries were eclipsed, 
%i.ne overpowering lustre of the sun. They were all placed 
v same stations, and played the same sprightly beams ; 
yet not one of them was seen. As the day-light wore away, 
and the sober shades advanced, Hesperus, who leads the star- 
ry -tram, disclosed his radiant forehead, and catched my eye. 
While 1 stood gazing on his bright and beautiful aspect, several 
of bis attendants peeped through the blue curtains. Scarce 
had I turned to observe these fresh emanations of splendour, 
but others dropt the veil, others stole info view. When lo ! 
faster and more numerous, multitudes sprung from obscurity ; 
they poured, in shining troops and in sweet confusion, over all 
the empyrean plain. Till the firmament seemed like one vast 
constellation, and " a flood of glory burst from all the skies/' 

Is not such the rise and such the progress of a true conver- 
sion in the prejudiced infidel, or inattentive sinner ? During 
the period of Sis vainer years, a thousand interesting truths, 
lay utterly undiscovered ; a thousand mementous^ concerns, 
were entirely disregarded. But when divine grace dissipates the 
delusive glitter, which dazzled his understanding, and beguiled 
his affections; then he begins to discern, dimly to discern, 
the things which belong to his peace. Some admonition of 
scripture, darts conviction to his soul ; as the glimmering star, 

pierces the gloom of night.- Then, perhaps, another awful 

or cheering text, impresses terror, or diffuses comfort. A 
threatening alarms his fears, "or a promise awakens his hopes. 
This, possibly, is succeeded by some afflictive dispensations of 
Providence, and improved by some edifying and instructive 
conversation. Ail which is established, as to its continuance ; 
and enlarged, as to its influence ; by a diligent study of the 
sacred word.— By this means, new truths continually pour their 
evidence. Scenes of refined and exalted, but hitherto unknown 
delight, address him with their attractives. New desires take 
wing ; new pursuits are set on foot. A new turn of mind forms 
his temper ; a new habit of conversation regulates his life* Jn 
a word, old tilings are passed away, and all things become new. 
He who was sometime darkness, is now light, and hfe, and joy 
in the Lord. 

The more attentively I view the chrystal concave, the more 
fully I discern the richness of its decorations. Abundance of 
minuter lights, which lay concealed from a superficial notice, 
are visible on a closer examination. Especially in those tracts 
of the sky, which are called the galaxy \; and are distinguish- 

Y I . 



110 CONTEMPLATIONS 

able by a sort of milky path. There the stars are crouded, 
rather than disseminated. The region seems to be all on a 
blaze, with their splendid rays. — Besides this vast profusion, 
which in my present Situation the eye discovers • was! to make 
my survey, from any other part of the globe, lying nearer the 
Southern pole, I should behold a iww choir of starry bodies, 
which have never appeared within our horizon. — WasT (which 
is still more wonderful) either here or there, to view the firma- 
ment with the virtuoso's glass ; I should find a prodigious mul- 
titude of flaming orbs, which, immersed in depths of- tether, 
escape the keenest unassisted sight.*— Yet, in these vari- 
ous situations, even with the aid or the telescopic tube, I 
should not be able to descry the half, perhaps not a timus&ndtk 
part of those majestic luminaries, which the vast expansive 
Heavens contain.f — So, the more diligently I pureue my search 
into those oracles of eternal truth, the scriptures ; I perceive 
a wider, a deeper, and ever-encreasing fund of spiritual trea- 
sures. I perceive the brighter strokes of wisdom, and the 
•richer displays of goodness ; a more transcendant excellency 
in the illustrious Messiah, and a more deplorable vilenessin 
rallen man; a more immaculate purity in God's law, and 
more precious privileges in his gospeL Yet, after a -course of 
study, ever so assiduous, ever so prolonged, I should have rea- 
son to own myself a mere babe in heavenly knowledge ^ or, at 
most but zputrile proficient in the school of Christ. 

After all my most accurate inspection, those starry orbs ap- 
pear but as glittering points. Even the planets, though so 
much nearer our earthly mansion, seem only like burning but- 
lets. If then we have such imperfect apprehensions of visible 
and material things; how much more scanty and inadequate 

must be our notions of invisible and immortal objects !• 

We beho'd the stars. Though every one is incomparably big- 
ger than the globe we inhabit, yet they dwindle upon our sur- 

* Come forth, O man, yon azure round survey, 
And view those lamps, which yield eternal day. 
Bring forth thy glasses : Clear thy wond'ring eyes : 
Millions beyond the former millions rise : 
Look farther :— millions more blaze from remoter ski 

See an ingenious poem, entitled, 1 he Universe. 
f How noble, considered in this view, are the celebrations of 
the Divine Majesty, which frequently occur in the sacred wri- 
tings ! It i3 the LORD that made the Heavens. Psal. xcvi. 5. — 
What a prodigious dignity does such a sense of things give to 
that devout ascription of pTaise ! Thou, even thou, art LORD 
alone : ihou hast made Heaven, the Heaven of Heavens, with all 
their host- Nehem. ix. 6. -^Examined by this rule, the beautiful 
climax of our inspired hymn, is sublime beyond compare. 
Praise HIM sun and moon : Praise Him all ye stars of light ; 
P.-aise Him. ye heaven of heaven?. Psab cxlviii. 3, 4. 



. ? 

sies. j 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS, j i i 

yey into the most diminutive forms. Thus we see by faith, the 
glories ohthe blessed J^sus ; the atoning efficacy of his death ; 
the justifying merit of his righteousness ; and the joys which 
are .resetted for his followers. But, alas ! even our most exalted 
ideas are vastly below the truth ; as much below the truth, as 
the report which our eyes make of those celestial edifices, is 

inferior to their real grandeur.- Should we take in all the 

magnifying assistances which Art has contrived ; those lumin- 
ous bodies would elude our skill, and appear as small as even 
Should an inhabitant of earth travel towards the cope of hea- 
ven ; arid be carried forwards, in his serial journey, more than 
a hundred and sixty millions of miles ;* even in that advanced 
situation, those oceans of ficune would look no larger than ra- 
diant specks. — In like manner, conceive ever so magnificently 
of the Redeemers honours, and of the bliss which he has pur- 
chased lor his people ; yet you will fall short. — Raise your ima- 
gination 7*%/ter ; stretch your invention wider; give them all 
the scope which a soaring and excursive fancy can take; still 
your conceptions will be extremely disproportionate to their 
.genuine perfections. Vast are the bodies which roll in the ex- 
panse of Heaven ; vaster far are those fields of aether, through 
which they run their endless round : But the excellency of 
JESusy and the happiness laid up for his servants, are greater 
than either, than both, than all An inspired writer calls the 
former, " the unsearchable riches of Christ f and styles the 
latter, '* an exceeding great and eternal weight of glory." 

If those stars, are so many inexhaustible magazines of fire, 
md immm^ reservoirs oi light ; there is no reason to doubt, 
but they have some very grand uses, suitable to the magnifi- 
cence of their nature. To specify, or explain, the particular 
purposes they answer, is altogether impossible, in our present 
state of distance and ignorance. This, however, we may clear- 
ly discern i they are disposed in that very manner, which is 
most phasing and most serviceable to mankind.— j — They are 
not placed at ah infinite remove, so as to lie beyond our sight ; 
neither are they brought so near our abodes, as to annoy us 
with their beams. We see them shine on every side. The 
deep azure, which serves them as a ground, heightens their 
splendour* At the same time their influence is gentle, and 
their rays are destitute of heat So that we are surrounded 
with a multitude of iiery globes, which beautify and illuminate 
the firmament without any risque, either to the coolness of our 

* This, incredible as it may seem^ is not a mere supposition, 
but a real fact For, about the twenty-first of December, we are 
above 160,000,000 of miles nearer the Northern parts of the 
sky, than we were at the twenty-first of ^fune. And yet, with 
regard to the stars situated in that quarter, we perceive no 
change in their aspect } nor any augmentation of their magnitude, 



112 CONTEMPLATIONS 

nighty ox thq quiet of ,Qur repose.-— Who can sufficiently ad- 
. Hi ire that wonderous benignity ; which, on our'account* strews 
Che earth with blessings of e^ery kind ; and vouchsafes to 
.make the very heavens subservient to our delight. 

It is not solely to adorn the roof of our palace with cosily 
gildings, that God '.commands the celestial luminaries to glit- 
ter through the gloom. We also reap considerable j^e^e^ts 
from their ministry.— They divide our ti?ne, and fix its solemn 
periods. They settle the order of our works ^ anthare, avoid- 
ing to the destination mentioned in sacred writ, << fo£ si gns* 
and for seasons ; for days, and for years." The returns of heat, 
and cold alone, would have been too precarious a rule. But 
these radiant bodies, by the variation, and also by the regu- 
larity, of their motions, afford a method of calculating, ..abso- 
lute, certain, and sufficiently obvious. By this, the farmer th 
instructed when to commit his grain to the furrows, and how 
to conduct the operations of husbandry. By this, the sailor 
knows when to proceed on his voyage with least peril, and how 
to carry on the business of navigation with most success. 

Why should not the Christian, the probationer for eternity, 
learn from the same monitors, to number- for nobler pur- 
poses, to number his days ; and duly to transact the grand, 
grand affairs of his everlasting salvation? Since Gob has ap- 
pointed so many bright measures for our time, to determine its 
larger periods, and to minute down its ordinary stages; sure 
this most strongly inculcates its value, and should powerfully 
prompt us to improve it. — Behold ! the supreme Lord marks 
the progress of our life, in that most conspicuous kalender 
above. Does not such an ordination tell us, and in the most 
emphatical language, that our life is given for use, not for waste ? 
That no portion of it is delivered, but under a strict account ; 
that all of it is entered as it passes, in the Divine register ; and, 
therefore, that the stewards of such a talent are to expect a 
future reckoning? Behold ! the very Heavens are bidden to 
be the accountants of our years, and months, and days. O ! 
may this induce us to manage them with a vigilant frugality ; 
to part with them, as misers with their hoarded treasures, wa- 
rily and circumspectly ; and, if possible, as merchants with their 
rich co?nmodities, not -without an equivalent, either in personal 
improvement, or social usefulness! 

How blight the starry diamonds shine! The ambition of 
Eastern Monarchs could imagine no distinction more noble and 
sublime, than that of being likened to those beaming orbs.* 
They form Night's richest dress ; and sparkle upon her sab!e 
robe, like jewels of the finest lustre. Like jewels! I wrong their 
character. The lucid stone has no brilliancy ; quenched is the 
flame even of the golden topaz; compared with those glowing 
decorations of Heaven. How widely are their radiant honours 
* Numb. xxiv. 17. Dan viii. lQ. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVEN S. 1 1 3 

diffused! No nation so remote, but sees their beauty; and re- 
joices, in their usefulness. They have been admired by all 
preceding generations ; and every rising age will gaze on their 
charms, with renewed delight.— — How animating, then, is 
that promise made to the Faithful ministers ot\the gospel : 
" They that ■turn many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars 
forever and ever."* Is not this a most winning encourage- 
ment^ & to spend and be spent" in the service of souls ? Me- 
thiftksy the stars beckon, as they twinkle. Methinks, they 
shew me their splendours on purpose to inspire me with alacrity, 
in the face set before me; on purpose to enliven ray activity, 
in the work that is given me to do.— — Yes; ye majestic mo- 
nitors, I understand your meaning. If honour has any charms ; 
if true glory, the glory which cometh from God, is any at- 
tractive; you display the most powerful incitements to exercise 
all assiduity in my holy vocation. I will henceforth, observe 
your intimation ; and, when zeal becomes languid, have re- 
course to your heavenly lamps ; if so be I may rekindle its 
ardour at those inextinguishable fires. 

Of the polar star, it is observable, that,, while other lumina- 
ries alter their situation, this se*ms invariably fixed, f While 
other luminaries, now, mount the battlements of Heaven, and 
appear upon duty ; now retire beneath t lie horizon, and resign 
to a fresh set the watches of- the nig lit ; this never departs from 
its station. This, in every season, maintains an uniform posi- 
tion ; and is always to be found in the same tract of the Nor- 
thern sky.--— How often has this beamed bright intelligence 
Oh the sailor ; and conducted the keel toils desired haven ! In 
early ages,, those who went down to the sea in ships, and occu- 
pied their business in great waters, had scarce any other sure 
guide for their wandering vessel. This therefore they viewed 
with the most solicitous attention. By this they formed their 
observations, and regulated their " voyage. When this was ob- 
scured By clouds, or enveloped in mists, the trembling mariner 
was temldered on the watery waste, His thoughts fluctuated, 
as much as the floating surge ; and he knew not where he 
was advanced, or zvhiUttr he should steer. But, when this 
auspicious star broke tinough die gloom , it dissipated the 
anxiety of his mind, and cleared up Ins dubious passage. He 
re-assumed, with atecnty,,.the management of the helm ; and 
\vas able to shape his course with, some tolerable degree of satis- 
faction and : certainty , 

Such, only much" .-clearer iu its light, and much surer in its 
direction, is the .holy word of. God, to those myriads of im?l- 

--■ :? t . * Dan. xn. 3. 

f I fpeak in- conformity to the. appearance o£ the object. For 
.though ; this remarkable star revolves round the pole, its motion 
is so simx, and the circle it describes so small, as render both the 
revolution and change of situation, hardly perceivable. 



114 CONTEMfUTlONS 

^^mi vessel of feeble feh, are to pass ihbWav^bf£ 
te^pesUious and perilous x^id. Jn all ^#™fe, those sacred 
f^fWg an encouraging ray; % aOtte^k^, P^tM 
ge^t thextght determination, and point out the praper proce- 
dure What is still a more inestimable advanta^, ||«| 
tire stari winch conducted the Eastern Sages, imWWim 
^ay of access to a Redeemer. Thev<\k3ayWunMkM 
merits; they discover the method of being interested g his 

ffift ; f nd lead the we ^y soul, ^^ by troubles; 
and.^JferaJ-by temptations, to that harbour of ''peaceful W 
pose.-~.Let Us, therefore, attend to this unerring directory with 
the same constancy of regard, as the sea-faring man observer 
rus compass. Let us become as thoroughly acquainted with 
rms sacied chart, as the pilot is with every trustv mark that 
gives notice of a lurking rock, and with every open road, that 
yields a safe passage into the port. Above all, let us commit 
ourselves to this infallible guidance, with the same implicit re* 
sanation ; let us conform our conduct to its exalted precepts, 
mb the, same sedulous care, as the children of Israel, when 
spjoyrning in the trackless desert, followed the pillar of fire, and 
the motions of the miraculous cloud- — So will it introduce 
u$>mt into an earthly Canaan, flowing with milk and honey, 
PPM into an immortal paradise, where is the fulness of jov, and 
wiiere^are pleasures for evermore. It will introduce us into 
tnose happy regions, where our sun shall no more go down, 
?wrour mooii withdraw itself ; for the LORD shall be our 
everlasting tight:; and the dctys-qfour mourning, together with 
the fatigues of our pilgrimage, shall he ended* 

I perceive a great variety in the size and splendour of those 
gems of Heaven. Some are of the first magnitude ; others of 
an inferior order. Some glow with intense flames ; others glim' 
mer with fainter beams. Yet all are beautiful; all have their 
peculiar lustre, and distinct use ; all tend, in their different de- 
grees, to enamel the cope of Heaven, and embroider the robe of 
Night.— This circumstance is marked by an author, whose sen- 
timents are a source of wisdom, and the very standard of truth. 
"One star," says the Apostle of the Gentiles, « differeth from 
another star in glory : So also is the resurrection of the dead." 
In the world above, are various degrees of happiness, various 
seats of honour. Some will rise to more illustrious distinctions, 
and richer joys. f Some, like vessels of ample capacity, will 

* Isa. Ix. 20. 
t 1 Cor. xv. 41, 42. The great Mr. Mede prefers the sense 
-here given ; and the learned Dr. Hammond admits it into his 
paraphrase ; Whose joint authority, though far from excluding 
z.x\y other, yet it is sufficient warrant for this application of 
the words. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS, ju 

admit more copious accessions of light and excellence. Rut 
there will be no want, no deficiency, in any ; but a fulness, 
both of divme satisfactions, and personal perfections. Each 
will enjoy all -.the good, and be adorned with all the glory, that 
his heart .can wish, or his condition receive, ■■ »None will 
know what it is to envy. Not the.least malevolence) nor the 
least selfishness, but everlasting friendship prevails, and a mu- 
tual complacency in each other's delight. Love, cordial love, 
will give every particular saint a participation of all the frui- 
tions^* which are diffused through the whole assembly of the 
fclessed.— No one eclipses, but each reflects light upon his bro* 
ther.— Sweet interchange of rays subsists ; All enlightened by 
the great Fountain, and all enlightening one another. By 
which reciprocal communication of pleasure and amity, eack 
will be continually receiving from^ each incessantly adding to, 
the general felicity. 

Happy, supremely happy they, who are admitted into the 
celestial mansions. Better to be a door-keeper in those " ivory 
paiaces,"t than to fill the most gorgeous throne on earth. Tile 
very lowest place at Gob's right hand, is distinguished honour 
and consummate bliss.— O ! that we may> in some measure, 
anticipate that beatific state, while we remain in our banish- 
ment below! May we, by rejoicing in the superior prosperity 
of another, make it our mvn ; and, provided the general result 
is harmony^ be content, be pleased with whatsoever part is as- 
signed to our sbure, in the universal choir of afTairs, 

While! am considering the heavenly bodies, I must not en- 
tirely forget those fundamental laws of our modern astronomy, 
projection and attraction. One of which is the ail-combining 
cement, the other is the ever-operating spring, of the mighty 
frame. — —In the beginning, the all-creating Fiat impressed a 
proper degree of motion on each of those whirling orbs. Which, 
if not contfouled, would have carried them on, in strait lines, 
and to endless lengths; till they were even lost in the abyss of 
space. But the gravitating property, being added to the pm* 
jectile force, determined their courses to <a circular^ form ; and 

* jt&lfe- invidiam, etfiim est qiiadhabeo.'ToUeinvidzdm, et meum, 
est quod babes. A u g u s t i n £ , 

f Psal.xlv. 8. 

\ I am aware, the planetary orbivs are not strictly circular, 
but rather elliptical. However, ar> they are but a small remove 
from the perfectly round figure, and partake of it incomparably fe 
more than the trajectories of the comets, I chuse to represent 
the thing in this view. Especially, because the notion of a cir- 
cle is so much more intelligible to the generality of readers, than. 
that of; an iUipsis :. and because I laid it dowivfor a rule, not to 
admit any such abstruse sentiment, or 1 difficult expression, as 
should demand a painful attention, instead of raising an agree* 



116 CONTEMPLATIONS 

obliged the reluctant rovers so perform their destined rounds. — 
Where either of those causes to suspend their action, all the 
harmoniously-moving spheres would be disconcerted; would 
degenerate into sluggish inactive masses ; and, falling into the 
central fire, be burnt to ashes ; or else would exorbitate into 
wild confusion ; and each, by the rapidity of its whirl, be dis- 
sipated into atoms. But the impulsive and attractive energy 
being most nicely attempered to each other, and under the im- 
mediate operation of the Almighty, exerting themselves in per- 
petual concert ; the various globes ran their radiant races, with- 
out the least interruption, or the least deviation ; so as to create 
the alternate changes of 'lay and -night, and distribute the use- 
ful vicissitudes of succeeding seasons; so as to answer all the 
great ends of a gracious Providence, and procure every com- 
fortable convenience for universal Nature. 

Does not this constitution of the material, very naturally lead 
the thoughts to those grand principles of the moral and devo- 
tional world, faith and love ? — — These are often celebrated 
by the inspired apostle, as a comprehensive summary of the 
gospel.* These inspirit the breast, and regulate the progress, 
of each private Christian. These unite the whole congregation 
of the faithful to God, and one to another : To God, the great 
centre, in the bonds of gratitude and devotion ; to one another, 
by a reciprocal intercourse of brotherly affections, and friend- 
ly offices. — If you ask, Why is it impossible for the true believ- 
er to live at all adventures ? to stagnate in sloth, or habitually 
to deviate from duty ? We answer, It is owing to " his faith, 
working by love."f He assuredly trusts, that Christ has sus- 
tained the infamy, and endured the torment, due to his sins. 
He firmly relies on that divine propitiation for the pardon of all 
his guilt ; and humbly expects everlasting salvation, as the pur- 
chase of his Saviour's merits. This produces such a spirit of 
gratitude, as refines his inclinations, and animates his whole 
behaviour. He cannot, he cannot run into excess of riot ; 
because love to his adorable Redeemer, like a strong, but silken 
curb, sweetly restrains him. He cannot, he cannot lie lulled 
m a lethargic indolence ; because love to the same infinite bene- 
factor, like a pungent, but endearing spur, pleasingly excites 

him. In a word, faith supplies the powerful impulse, while 

love gives the determining bias ; and leads the willing feet 
through the whole circle of God's commandments. By the 

able idea- For which reason, I have avoided technical terms ; 
have taken no notice of Jupiter's satellites, or Saturn's ring ; 
have not so much as mentioned the names of the planets, nor 
attempted to wade into any depths of the science ; left, to those 
who have no opportunity of using the telescope, or of acquaint- 
ing themselves with a system of astronomy, I should propound 
riddles, rather than display entertaining and edifying truths. 
* Col. i. 4. Philem. ver. 5. t Gal. v. 6. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 117 

united efficacy of these heavenly graces, the Christian conduct 
is preserved, in the uniformity and beauty of holiness ; as, by 
the blended power of those Nexvtonian principles, the solar 
system revolves in a steady and magnificent regularity. 

How admirable, how extensive, how diversified, is the force 
of this single principle, attraction .'* — This penetrates the very 
essence of all bodies, and diffuses itseif to the remotest limits 
of the mundane system.— By this, the worlds, impressed with 
motion, hang self- balanced 'on their centres ;f and, though orbs 
of immense magnitude, require nothing but this amazing pro- 
perty for their support.- — To this we ascribe a phenomenon .of 
h very different kind, the pressure of the atmosphere; which, 
though a yielding and expansive fluid, yet, constipated by an 
attractive energy, surrounds the whole globe, and incloses every 
creature, as it were, with a tight bandage. An expedient 
this, absolutely necessary to preserve the texture of our bodies ; 
and indeed, to maintain every species of animal existence — — r- 
Attraction .[ Urged by this wonderful impetus, the rivers circu- 
late, copious and tin intermitted, among all the nations of the 
earth, sweeping with rapidity down the steeps, or softly ebbing 
through the plains. Impelled by the same mysterious force, 
ine nut ricious juices are detached from the soil, and, ascending 
■the trees, find their way through millions of the finest mean- 
ders, in order to transfuse vegetative life into the branches. ~~- 
This confines the ocean within proper bounds. Though the 
waves thereof' roar;" though they toss themselves with all the 
madness of indignant rage ; yet, checked by this potent, this 
inevitable curb, they are unable to pass ever* the slight barrier 
of sand. To this the mountains owe that unshaken firmness, 
which '''laughs* at the shock of careering winds, and bids the 
tempest with all its mingled horrors, impotent!)" rave— — By 
virtue of this invisible mechanism, without the aid of crane or 
pulley, or any instrument of human device, many thousand 
tons of water are raised, every moment, into the regions of the 
firmament. By this they continue suspendtd'm thin air, with- 
out any capacious cistern to contain their substance, or any 
massy pillars to sustain their weight. By this same variously- 
acting power, they return to their place of native residence, 
distilled in gentle tails of dew, or precipitated in impetuous 
showers of rain. They slide into the fields in fleecy flights of 
'snow, or are darted upon the houses in clattering storms of 
hail. — This occasions the strong cohesion of solid bodies, with* 
out which, our large machines could exert themselves with no 
vigour, and the nicer utensils of life would elude our. expecta- 
tions of service. This affords a foundation for all those delicate, 
or noble mechanic arts, which furnish mankind with number- 

* 1 mean the attraction both of gravitation and cohesion, 
t Ponderibus librata mis. 

z 



1 1 8 CONTEMPLATIONS 

less conveniencies, both of ornament and delight. — In short, 
this is the prodigious ballast, which composes the equilibrium, 
and constitutes the stability of things ; this the great chain 
which forms the connections of universal Nature ; and the 
mighty engine, which prompts, facilitates, and, in a good 
measure, accomplishes all her operations. — What complicated 
effects from a single cause !* What profusion amidst frugality ! 
An unknown profusion of benefits, with the utmost frugality of 
expence! 

And what is this attraction ? Is it a quality, in its existence, 
inseparable from matter ; and, in its acting, independant on the 
DEITY ?— -Quite the reverse. It is the very Jinger of God ; 
the constant impression of Divine power; a principle, neither 
innate in matter, nor intelligible by mortals. — Does it not, how- 
ever, bear a considerable analogy to the agency of the Holy 
Ghost, in the Christian ceconomy ? Are not the gracious ope- 
rations of the Blessed Spirit, thus extensive, thus admirable, thus 
various ? That Almighty Being transmits his gifts through 
every age, and communicates his graces to every adherent of 
the Redeemer. All, either of illustrious memory, or of bene- 
ficial tendency ; in a word, " all the good that is done upon. 
earth, he doth it himself." Strong in his aid, and in the power 
of his might, the saints of all times have trod vice under their 
feet ; have triumphed over this abject world, and conversed in 
Heaven, while they dwelt on earth. Not I, but the grace of 
God which was with me,-\ is the unanimous acknowledgment of 
them all. — By the same kindly succours, the whole church is 
still enlightened, quickened, and governed. Through his be- 
nign influences, the scales of ignorance fall from the under- 
standing, the leprocy of evil concupiscence is purged from the 
will, and the fetters, the more than adamantine fetters of habi- 
tual iniquity, drop off from the conversation. He breathes 
.even upon dry bonesj and they live : They are animated with 
faith ; they pant with ardent and heavenly desire ; they exer- 
cise themselves in all the duties of godliness. — His real, though 
secret inspiration, dissolves the flint in the impenitent breast, 
and binds up the sorrows of the broken heart; raises the 
thoughts high, in the elevations of holy hope ; yet lays them 
low, in the humiliations of inward abasement ; "steels the soul 
with impenetrable resolution, and persevering fortitude; at the 
same time, softens it into a dove-like meekness, and melts it in 
penitential sorrow. 

When I contemplate those ample and magnificent structures* 

* See another remarkable instance of this kind, in the i?e- 
Jlections on a Flower Garden, vol. I. 

t Cor. xv. 10. 
\ See that beautiful piece of sacred and allegorical imagery 
displayed, Ezek. xxxvii. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 119 

greeted over all the cetherial plains. — When I look upon them, 
as so many splendid repositories of light, or fruitful abodes of 
life ; — When I remember, that there may be other orbs, vastly 
more remote than those which appear to our unaided sight ; 
orbs, whose effulgence, though travelling ever since the crea- 
tion, is not yet arrived upon our coasts :* — When I stretch m y 
thoughts to the innumerable orders of .being, which inhabit ait 
those spacious systems ; from the loftiest seraph, to the lowest 
reptile ; from the armies of angels, which surround the throne 
of Jehovah, fo the puny nations, which tinge with blue the 
surface of the plirm,f or mantle the standing pool with green : 
— How various appear the links in this immense chain ! How 
vast the gradations in this universal scale of existence ! Yet all 
these, though ever so vast and various, are the ivorfc of God's 
hand, and are full of his presence. 

He rounded in his palm those dreadfully large globes, which 
are pendulous in the vault of Heaven. He kindled those aston- 
ishingly bright fires, which nil the firmament with a flood -of 
glory. By him they are suspended in fluid aether, and cannot 
be shaken : By him they dispense % perpetual tide of beams, 

and are never exhausted. He formed, with inexpressible 

nicety, that delicately fine collection of tubes; that un know ft 
multiplicity of subtile springs, which organize and actuate the 

* If this conjecture (which has no less a person than the ce- 
lebrated Mr. Huygens for its author) concerning unseen stars, be 
true : — If, to this observation, be'added,. what is affirmed by our 
skilful astronomers; that the motion of the rays of light is so 
surprisingly swift, as to pass through ten millions of miles in a 
single minute: — How vast ! beyond imagination vast and im- 
measurable, are the spaces of the universe! — While the jnind 
is distended by the grand idea ; or rather, while she is dispatch- 
ing her ablest powers of piercing judgment, and excursive fan- 
cy ; and finds them all drop short, or baffied by the amazing; 
subject, permit me to apply that spirited exclamation and noble 
remark— — 

Say, proud arch, 

Built with divine ambition ; in disdain 

Of limit built : built in the taste of heav'n! 

Vast concave ! Ample dome ! Wast thou design'd 

A meet apartment for the Deity ? 

Not so : That thought alone thy state impairs; 

Thy lofty sinks ; and shallows thy profound ; 

And straitens thy diffusive. 

Night Thoughts, No. IX, 

f Ev'n the blue down the purple plum surrounds, 
A living world thy failing sight confounds. 
To Him a peopled habitation shews, 
Where millions taste the bounty God bestows. 

See a beautiful and instructive poem i styled— Deity. 



120 CONTEMPLATIONS 

irame of the minutest insect. He bids the crimson current 
roil ; the vital movements play ; and associates a world of won- 
ders, even in an animated point.* — In all these is a signal ex- 
hibition of creating power ; to all these are extended the spe- 
cial regards of preserving goodness. From hence let me learn, 
to rely on the providence, and to revere the presence, of Su- 
preme Majesty. 

To rely on his Providence. — For, amidst that inconceivable 
number and variety of beings, which swarm through the re- 
gions of creation, not one is. overlooked, not one is neglected, 
by the great Omnipotent Cause of all. However inconsidera- 
ble in its character, or diminutive in its size, it is .still the pro- 
duction of an Universal Maker, and belongs to the family of 
the Almighty Father? — What? though enthroned archangels 
enjoy the smiles of his countenance I yet the low inhabitants 
of the earth, the most despicable worms of the ground, are 
not excluded from his providential care. Though the mani- 
festation of his perfection is vouchsafed to holy and intellectual 
essences; his ear is open to theories of the young raven. His 
eye is attentive to the wants, and to the welfare, of the very 
meanest births of Nature. — How much less, then, are his own 
people disregarded? those, for whom he has delivered his be- 
loved Son to death, and for whom he has prepared habitations 
of eternal joy. They disregarded! No. They are "kept 
as the apple of an eye." The very hairs of their head are all 
numbered. The fondest mother may forget her infant, that 
is dandled upon her knees, and sucks at her breasts,f much 

* There are living creatures abundantly smaller than a mite. 
Mr. Bradley, in his treatise on gardening, mentions an insect, 
which, after accurate examination, he found to be a thousand 
times less than the least visible grain of sand. Yet, such an in- 
sect, though quite imperceptible to the naked eye, is an elephant, 
is a whale, compared with other animalcules, almost infinitely 
more minute, discovered by Mr. Lewenhoek — If we consider the 
several limbs, which compose such an organized particle : the 
different muscles which actuate such a set of limbs : the flow of 
spirits, incomparably more attenuated, which put these muscles 
in motion : the various fluids, which circulate : the different se- 
cretions which are performed: together with the peculiar mi- 
nuteness of the solids, before they arrive at their full growth : 
not to mention other more astonishing modes of diminution : — ■ 
Sure, we shall have the utmost reason to acknowledge, that the 
adored Maker is — Maximus in minimis ; greatly glorious ev«n 
in his smallest works. 

f Isa. xlix. 15. Can a woman forget her sucking. child, that she 
should not have compassion on the son of her womb ? Tes, they may 
forget ; yet will I not forget thee. — How delicate and expressive 
are the images in this charming scripture ! How full of beauty, 
if beheld in a critical, how rich with consolation, if considered in 
a believing view ! — Can a woman / one of the softer sex : whose 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 121 

sooner than the Father of everlasting compassions can discon- 
tinue, or remit, his watchful tenderness to his people — his 
children — his heirs. 

Let this teach me also a more lively sense of the Divine 
presence. —All the rolling worlds above, all the living atoms 
below, together with all the beings that intervene betwixt these 
wide extremes, are vouchers for an ever-present Deity. " God 
has not left himself without witness." The marks of his foot- 
steps are. evident in every place, and the touches of his finger - 
distinguishable in every creature. " Thy name is so high, O thou 
ail-supporting, all-informing Lord ! and that do thy wondrous 
works declare* Thy goodness warms in the morning-sun, 
and refreshes in the evening breeze. Thy glory shines in the 
lamps of midnight, and smiles in the blossoms of Spring. 
We see a trace of thy incomprehensible grandeur in the bound- 
less extent of things, and a sketch of thy exquisite skill in those 
almost evanescent sparks of life, the insect-race." — How stupid- 
is this heart of mine, that, amidst such a multitude of remem- 
brancers, thronging on every side, I should forget thee a sin- 
gle moment ! Grant me, thou great I AM ! thou Source and 
support of universal existence! — O grant me an enlightened 
eye, to discern thee in every object: and a devout heart, to 

nature is most impressible, and wli3se passions are remarkably 
tender ; — can such a one, not barely disregard, but entirely/br- 
gct ; not suspend her care for a while, but utterly erase the very 
memory — of her child : her own child, not another's ; a child 
that was formed in her wowi, and is a part of herself ?— her 
son : the more important, and therefore more desirable species; 
to whom it peculiarly belongs to preserve the name, and build 
up the family : — Her only son ; for the word is singular, and 
refers to a case, where the offspring, not being numerous, but 
centered in a single birth, must be productive of the fondest en- 
dearment ; — Can she divest herself of all concern for such a 
child; not when he is grown up to maturity, or gone abroad 
from her house.;— but while he continues in an infantile state, 
and must owe his whole safety to her kind attendance ; while 
he lies in her bosom, rests on her arm, and even sucks at her 
breast ?— -Especially, if the poor innocent be racked with pain, 
or seized by some severe affliction ; and so become an object of 
compassion, as well as of love. Can she hear its piercing cries ; 
can she see it all restless, all helpless, under its misery ; and 
feel no emotions of parental pity ! — If one such monster of inhu- 
manity might be found : could all mothers be so degenerate ? 
This, sure, cannot be suspected, need not be feared. Much less 
need the true believer be apprehensive of the failure of my kind-- 
nes-s. An -universal extinction of those strongest affections of 
Nature, is a more supposeable case, than that I should ever be 
immiadf'.il of my people, or regardless of their interests, 
* Psal, ixx\\ 1. 
Z2 



122 CONTEMPLATIONS 

adore thee on every occasion. Instead of livkig without Goo in ' 
the world, may I be ever with him, and see all things full of him ? 

-The glittering stars, 

By the deep ear of meditation heard, 

Still in their midnight-watches sing of HIM. 

lie nods a calm. The tempest blows his wrath, 

The thunder is his voice ; and the red flash 

His speedy sword of justice. At his touch 

The mountains flame. He shakes the solid earth, . 

And rocks the nations. Nor in these alone, 

In ev'ry common instance GOD is seen. 

Thomson's Spring. 
If the beautiful spangles which a clear night pours on the be- 
holder's eye, if those other fires, which beam in remoter skies, 
and are discoverable only by that revelation to the sight, the 
telescope ; if all those bright millions are so many fountains of 
day, enriched with jiative and independant lustre, illuminating 
planets, aud enlivening systems of their own :* What pomp, 
how majestic and splendid, is disclosedjn the midnight-scene ! 
What riches are disseminated through all those numberless 
provincesofthe great Jehovah's empire ! — Grandeur beyond 
expression! — Yet there is not the meanest slave, but carries 
greater wealth in his own bosom, possesses superi or dignity in 
his own person. The sout, that informs his clay ; — the sou), 
that teaches him to think, and enables him to.chuse; that qual- 
ifies him to relish rational pleasure, and to breathe sublime de- 
sire ;f — the soul, that is endowed with such noble faculties, and, 
above all, is distinguished with the dreadful, the glorious ca- 
pacity, of being pa.ned or blessed for ever; — this soul sur- 
passes m worth, whatever ttre.eye can see ; whatever of mate- 
rial thQ fancy can imagine. Before one such intellectual being, 
ali the treasure and all the magnificence of unintelligent crea- 
tion becomes poor and contemptible.]: For this soul, Omnipo- 

* Consult w^ith Reason, Reason will reply, 
Each lucid point that glows in yonder sj^y, 
Informs a system in the boundless spacaf 
And fills with glory, its appointed place : 
With beams unborrowed, brightens other skies ; 
And worlds, to thee unknown, with heat aud life supplies. 

The Universe. 
f In this respect, as vested with such capacities, .the soul, even 
of fallen man, has an unquestionable greatness and dignity ; is 
majestic^ though in ruin. 

\ I beg leave to transcribe a pertinent passage from that ce- 
lebrated master of reason, and universal literature, Dr. Bently ; 
whom no one can he tempted to suspect, either tinctured with 
enthusiasm, or warped to bigotry. — " If we consider," says he, 
*' the dignity of an intelligent being, and put that m the scale, 
against brute and inanimate matter, we may aifim, without 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 123 

tence itself has waked, and worked, through every age. To 
convince this soul, the fundamental laws of Nature have been 
controlled ; and the most amazing miracles have alarmed all 
the ends of the earth. To instruct this soul, the wisdom of 
Heaven has been transfused into the sacred page ; and mis- 
sionaries have been sent from the great King, who resides in 
light unapproachable. To sanctify this soul, the Almighty 
Comforter takes the wings of a dove ; and with a sweet trans- 
forming influence, broods on the human heart. And, O ! to 
redeem this soul from guiit, to rescue it from hell, the Heaven 
of Heavens was bowed, and God himself came down to dwell 
in dust. 

Let me pause a while on this important subject. What 

are the schemes which engage the attention of eminent states- 
men, and mighty monarchs, compared with the grand interests 
of an immortal sou! ? The support of commerce, and the suc- 
cess of armies, though extremely weighty affairs ; yet, if laid in 
the balance against the salvation of a soul, are lighter than the 
downy feather, poised against talents bf gold. To save a navy 
from shipwreck* or a kingdom from slavery, are deliverances 
of the most momentous nature, which the transactions of mor- 
tality can admit. But, O ! how they shrink into an inconside- 
rable trifle, if (their aspect upon immortality forgot) they are 
set in competion with the delivery of a single soul, from the an- 
guish and horrors of distressed eternity /* 

Is such the importance of the soul 'what vigilance then can 
be -too much, or rather what holy solicitude can be sufficient, 
for the overseers of the Saviour's flock, and the guardians of 
this great, this venerable, this invaluable charge? — Since such 
is the importance of the sbul^ wilt thou not, O man, be watch- 
ful for the preservation of thy own ? Shall every casual incident 
awaken thy concern; every transitory toy command thy re- 
gard ? and shall the welfare of thy soul, a work of continual 
occurrence, a work of endless consequence, sue, in vain, for thy 
serious care. Thy soul, thy soul, is thy all. If this be secured, 
thou art greatly rich, and wilt be unspeakably happy. If this be 
lost, the whole world acquired, will leave thee in^>overty ; and 
all its delights enjo) ed will abandon thee to misery. 

I have often been charmed and awed, at the sight of the 
nocturnal Heavens ; even before I knew how to consider them 
in their proper circumstances of majesty and beauty. Some- 
thing like magic, has struck my soul, on a transient and un- 

overvaluing human nature, that the soul of one virtuous and re- 
ligious man, is of greater worth and excellency, than the sun 
and his planets, and all the stars in the world." 
* Not all yon luminaries quench'd at once 
Were half so sad, as one benighted mind, 
Which gropes for happiness, and meets despair. 

Night Thoughts , No. IX. 



124 CONTEMPLATIONS 

thinking survey of the aetherial vault, tinged throughout with 
the purest azure, and decorated with innumerable starry lamps. 
I have felt, I know not what, powerful and aggrandizing im- 
pulse; which seemed to snatch me from the low entangle- 
ments of vanity, and prompted an ardent desire for sublimer ob- 
jects. . . Methought, I heard, even from the silent spheres, a 
commanding call, to spurn the abject earth, and pant after un- 
seen delights. — -Henceforward, I hope to imbibe more copious- 
ly, this moral emanation of the skies, when, in some such man- 
ner as the preceding they are rationally seen, and the sight is 
duly improved. The stars, I trust, will teach as well as shine ; 
and help to dispel, both nature's gloom, and my intellectual 
darkness. To some people, they discharge no better a service, 
than that of holding a flambeau to their feet, and softening the 
horrors of their night. To me and my friends, they may act 
as ministers of a superior order, as counsellors of wisdom, and 
guides to happiness ! Nor will they fail to execute this noble 
office, if they gently light our way into the knowledge of their 
adored Maker ; if they point out, with their silver rays, our 
path to his beatific presence. 

I gaze, I ponder, I ponder, I gaze ; and think ineffable 
things.— — I roll an eye of awe and admiration. Again and 
again I repeat my ravished views, and can never satiate either 
my curiosity or enquiry. I spring my thoughts into this im- 
mense field, till even Fancy tires upon her wing. I find won- 
ders ever new ; wonders more and more amazing. Yet, 

after all my present enquiries, what a mere nothing do I know ; 
by all my future searches, how little shall I be able to learn 
of those vastly distant suns, and their circling retinue of worlds ! 
Cculd I pry with Newton s piercing sagacity, or launch into 
his extensive surveys ; even then my apprehensions would be 
little better than those dim and scanty images, which the mole, 
just emerged from her cavern, receives on her feeble optic. 
This, sure, should repress all impatience or immoderate ardour, 
to pry into the secrets of the starry structures, and make me 
more particularly careful to cultivate my heart. To fathom 
the depths of the Divine Essence, or to scan universal Nature 
with a critical exactness, is an attempt which sets the acutent 
philosopher, very nearly on a level with the ideot ; since it is 
almost, if not altogether, as impracticable by the former as by 
the latter. 

Be it, then, my chief stud^ not to pursue what is absolutely 
unattainable ; but rather to seek what is obvious to find, easy 
to be acquired, and of inestimable advantage when possessed. 
! let me seek that charity which ediiieth,* that faith which 

* 1 Cor. viii. 1. I need not inform my reader, that in this 
text, in that admirable chapter, 1 Cor. viii. and in various other 
passages of Scripture, the word charity should by no means be 
ccanaecj, te the particular act of alms-giving, or external bene- 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 125 

purifieth. Love, humble love, not conceited science, keeps 
the door of Heaven* Faith, a child-like faith in Jesus ; no* 
a haughty self sufficient spirit, which scorns to be ignorant of 
any thing ; presents a key* to those abodes of bliss. — This 
present state is the scene destined to the exercise of devotion ■; 
the invisible world is the place appointed for the enjoyment qf 
knowledge. There the dawn of our infantile minds will be 
advanced to the maturity of perfect day ; or rather, there out 
midnight shades will be brightened into all the lustre of noon* 
— There the souls which come from the schools of faith, and 
bring with, them the principles of love, will dwell in light it- 
self: will be obscured with no darkness at all ; will know, even 
as they are known. f— — — Such an acquaintance, therefore, 
do I desire to form, and to carry on such a correspondence 
with the heavenly bodies, as may shed a benign influence on 
the seeds of grace implanted on my breast. Let the exalted 
tracts of the firmament, sink my soul into deep humiliation. 
Let those eternal fires kindle in my heart an adoring gratitude 
to their Almighty Sovereign. Let yonder ponderous and enor- 
mous globes, which rest on his supporting arm, teach me an 
unshaken affiance in their incarnate Maker. Then shall I be 
— —if not wise as the astronomical adept, yet wise unto 
salvation. 

Haying now walked and worshipped in this universal tent' 
pie, that is arched with skies, emblazed with stars, and ex- 
tended even to immensity : -Having cast an eye, like the 

enraptured patriarch,! an e J e °f reason and devotion, through 
the magnificent scene; with the former, having discovered an 
infinitude of worlds ; and with the latter, having met the Deity 
in every view :« — . — Having beheld, as Moses in the flaming 
bush, a glimpse of Jehovah's excellencies! reflected from 
the several planets, and streaming from myriads of celestial 
luminaries : Having read various lessons in that stupen- 

ficence. It is of a much more exalted and extensive nature. 
It signifies that divinely precious grace, which warms the soul 
with supreme love to God, and enlarges it with disinterested affec- 
tion for men. Which renders it the reigning care of* the life, 
and the chief delight of the heart, to promote the happiness of 
the one and the glory of the other. — ^-.Thisytbis, is that charity 
of which so many excellent things are every where spoken. 
Which can never be too highly extolled ut too earnestly cover- 
ed, since it is the image of God, and the very spirit of heaven, 

* The righteousness of Christ. This is what Milton 
beautifully styles, 

The golden key, 

That opes the palace of eternity. 
t 1 Cor. xiii. 12 \ Gen. xv. 5. 



126 CONTEMPLATIONS, Sf C . 

dombook of wisdom,* Where immeasurable sheets of a^ure 
compose the page, and orbs of radiance write in everlasting 

characters, a comment on our creed :- What remains, but 

that I close the midnight solemnity as our Lord concluded 
his grand sacramental institution, with a song of praise f- — ■-* 
And behold a hymn, suited to the sublime occasion, indited 
by inspirationf itself, transferred into our language, by one of 
the happiest efforts of human ingenuity 4 

" The spacious firmament on high, 
.With ail the blueaetherial sky) 
And spangled heav'ns, a shining frame, 
Their great original proclaim : 
Th' unwearied sun from day to day, 
Does his Creator's pow'r display ; 
And publishes, to every land, 
The work of an almighty hand* 

Soon as the evening shades prevail, 
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale ; 
And nightly, to the list'ning earth, 
Repeats the story of her birth ; 
While all the stars that round her burn, 
And all the planets in their turn, 
Confirm the tidings as they roll, 
And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

What, though, in solemn silence, all 
Move round the dark terrestrial ball ? 
What though, nor real voice nor sound 
Amidst their radiant orbs be found? 
In reason's ear they all rejoice, 
And utter forth a glorious voice, 
For ever singing, as they shine, 
The hand that made us, is divine." 



-For heaven 



Is as the book of GW before thee set, 
Wherein to read his wond'rous works. Milton. 
t Psalm xix. 
4 Addison, Spectator t vol. VI. No. 465. 



WINTER-PIECE. 



Storms and tempests may calm the sou! — Snotv and ice be taught 
to warm the heart, and praise the Creator. 

Anoym. Lett, to the Author. 



IT is true, in the delightful seasons, his tenderness and his 
love, are most eminently displayed. — In the vernal months, 
all is beauty to the eye, and music to the ear. The clouds 
drop fatness; the air softens into balm; and flowers in abun- 
dance spring wherever we tread, bloom wherever we look. — • 
Amidst the burning heats of Summer, HE expands the leaves, 
and thickens the shades. He spreads the cooling arbours to 
receive us, and awakes the gentle breeze to fan us. The moss 
swells into a couch for the repose of our bodies ; while therivu* 
let softly rolls, and sweetly murmurs to soothe our imagination. 
In Autumn, HIS bounty covers the fields with a profusion of 
nutrimental treasure, and bends the boughs with loads of deli- 
cious fruit. He furnishes his hospitable board with present 
plenty, and prepares a copious magazine for future wants.— * 
But is it only in these smiling periods of the year, that God, 
the all-gracious God is seen? Has Winter, stern Winter, no 
tokens of his presence? Yes; all things are eloquent of his 
praise. " His way is in the whirlwind." Storms and tem- 
pests fulfil his word, and extol his power. Even piercing frosts 
jbear witness of his goodness, while they bid the shivering na- 
tions tremble at his wrath. Be Winter then, for a while, our 
theme.* Perhaps those barren scenes may be fruitful of in- 
tellectual improvement. Perhaps that rigorous cold, which 
binds the earth in icy chains, may serve to enlarge our hearts, 
and warm them with holy love. 

* A sketch of this nature, I must acknowledge is quite dif- 
ferent from the subject of the book ; and I cannot but declare, 
was as far distant from the thoughts of the author. But the 
desire of several acquaintance, together with the intimation of 
its usefulness, by a very polite letter from an unknown hand 
(which has undesignedly furnished me with the best motto I 
could recollect) prevailed with me to add a few descriptive 
touches, and improving hints, on what is so often experienced 
in these Northern regions. I hope, the attempt I have made 
to oblige those Gentlemen, will obtain the approbation, or at 
least the excuse of my other readers. 



128 A WINTER-PIECE. 

See? how the day is shortened! — The sun, detained in fairer 
climes, or engaged in more agreeable services, rises like an 
unwilling visitant, with tardy and reluctant steps. He walks 
with a shy indifference along the edges of the sky ; casting an 
oblique glance, he ym% looks upon our dejected world, and 
scarcely scatters light through the thick air. Dim is his ap- 
pearance, languid are his gleams while he continues, Or, if 
he chance to wear a brighter aspect, and a cloudless brow, yet, 
like the young and gay in the house of mourning, he seems 
uneasy till he is gone, is in haste to depart. — And let him de- 
part. Why should we wish for his longer stay, since he can 
shew us nothing but the Creation in distress? The flowery 
families lie dead, and the tuneful tribes are struck dumb. The 
trees stript of their verdure, and lashed by storms, spread their 
naked arms to the enraged and relentless Heavens. Fragrance 
no longer floats in the air ; but chilling damps hover, or cut- 
ting gales bellow. Nature, divested of all her beautiful robes, 
sits like a forlorn disconsolate widow in her weeds, while winds, 
in doleful accents howl, and rains in repeated showers weep. 

We regret not therefore, the speedy departure of the day. 
When the room is hung with funeral black, and dismal objects 
are all around, who would desire to have the glimmering taper 
kept alive? which can only discover spectacles of sorrow, can 
only make the horror visible. — And, since this mortal life is 
little better than a continual conflict with sin, or an unremitted 
struggle with misery, is it not a gracious ordination, which has 
reduced our age to a span ? Fourscore years of trial for the 
virtuous are sufficiently long ; and more than such a term allow- 
ed to the wicked, would render them beyond all measure vile. 
Our way to the kingdom of heaven lies through tribulations. 
Shall we then accuse, shall we not rather bless the Providence, 
which has made the passage short ? Soon, soon we cross the 
vale of tears ; and then arrive at the happy hills, where light 
for ever shines, where joy for ever smiles. 

Sometimes the day is rendered shorter still ; is almost blotted 
cut from the year.* The vapours gather; they thicken into 
an impenetrable gloom, and obscure the face of the sky. At 
length, the rains descend. The sluices of the firmament are 
opened, and the low-hung clouds pour their congregated stores. 
Copious and unintermitted, still they pour, and still are unex- 
hausted. The waters drop incessantly from the caves, and 
rush in rapid streams from the spouts. They roar along the 
channelled pavements, and stand in foul shallows amidst the 
village streets. Now, if the inattentive eye, or negligent hand, 
has left the roof but scantily covered, the insinuating element 
finds its way into every flaw, and oozing through the ceiling, 
* Involvere diem nimbi, et nox humida coelum 

Abstulit.— Virg. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 129 

at once upbraids and chastises the careless inhabitant. The 
ploughman, soaked to the skin, leaves his hajf-tilied acre.^ The 
poor poultry, dripping with wet, croud into shelter. The te- 
nants of the bough, fold up their wings, afraid to launch into 
the streaming air. The beasts, joyless and dispirited, rumi- 
nate under their shades. The roads swim, and the brooks 
swell. The river, amidst all this watery ferment, long con- 
tained itself within its appointed bounds: but swollen, by innu- 
merable currents, and roused at last into uncontroulabie rage, 
bursts over its banks, shoots into the plain, bears down all op- 
position, -spreads it-self far and wide, and buries the meadows 
under a brown, sluggish, soaking deluge. 

Mow happy for man, that this inundation comes, when there 
are no flowery crops in the valley to be overwhelmed ; no fields 
standing thick with corn to be laid waste ! At such a juncture, 
it would have been ruin- to the husbandman and his family ; 
but thus timed, ±t y\e\ds ?nanure for hk ground, and promises 
fcim riches in reversion. — How often, and how long, has the 
Divine Majesty bore with the most injurious affronts from sin- 
ners ! His goodness triumphed over their perverseness, and gra- 
ciously refused to be exasperated. But, O presumptuous crea- 
tures I multiply no longer your provocations. Urge not, by 
repeated iniquities, the Almighty arm to strike; lest his long- 
ftutierhig cease, and his fierce anger break forth; break forth 
like a flood ofivaiers-* and sweep you away into irrecoverable 
and everlasting perdition. T 

How mighty I how majestic ! and O how T mysterious are thy 
works, thou GOD of Heaven, and LORD of Nature ! When the 
air is calm, where sleep the stormy winds ? In what chambers 
are they reposed, or in what dungeons confined ? till thou art 
pleased to awaken their rage, and throw open their prison- 
. doors. Then, with irresistible impetuosity, they fly forth scat- 
tering dread, and menacing destruction. 

The atmosphere is hurled into the most tumultuous confusion. 
The sreal torrent bursts its way over mountains, seas, and con- 
tinents. All things feel the dreadful shock. All things trem- 
ble before the furious blast. "The forest vexed and tore, groans 
under the scourge. Her sturdy sons are strained to the very 
• root, and almost sweep the soil they were wont to shade. The 
stubborn oak, that disdains to bend, is dashed headlong to the 
ground, and, with shattered arms, with prostrate trunk, blocks 
the road. — While the flexile reed, that springs up in the marsh ; 
yielding to the gust (as the meek and pliant temper to injuries, 
or the resigned and patient spirit to misfortunes,) eludes the force 
of the storm, and survives amidst the wide spread havock. 

For a moment the turbulent and outrageous sky seems to be 

assuaged ; but it intermits its wrath, only to increase its 

strength. Soon the sounding squadrons of the air return to the 

* Hos. v. 10. 

A A 



130 A WINTER-PIECE. 

attack, and renew their ravages with redoubled fury. The 
stately dome rocks amidst the wheeling clouds. The impreg- 
nable tower totters on its basis, and threatens to overwhelm 
whom it was intended to protect. The ragged rock is rent in 
pieces ;* and even the hills, the perpetual hills, on their deep 
foundations, are scarcely secure. Where now is the place of 
safety ? when the city reels, and houses become heaps ! Sleep 
affrighted flies. Diversion is turned into horror. All is uproar 
in the element ; all is consternation among mortals ; and noth- 
ing but one wide scene of rueful devastation through the land, 
— Yet this is only an inferior minister of Divine displeasure ; 
the executioner of milder indignation. How then — 1 lioiv 
will the lofty looks of man be humbled, and the haughtiness hf 
men be bowed down,\ when the LORD GOD Omnipotent 
shall meditate terror-^-when he shall set all his terrors in array 
— when he rises to judge the nations, and to shake terribly 
the earth. 

The ocean swells with tremendous commotions. The pon- 
derous waves are heaved from their capacious bed, and almost 
lay bare the unfathomable deep. Flung into the most rapid 
agitation, they sweep over the rocks ; they lash the lofty cliffs ; 
znd toss themselves into the clouds. Navies are rent from their 
anchors; and, with all their enormous load, are whirled swift 
as the arrow, wild as the wind, along the vast abyss.— Now 
they climb the rolling mountain ; they plow the frightful 
ridge ; and seem to skim the skies ; Anon they plunge into the 
opening gulf; they lose the sight of day; and are lost them- 
selves to every eye. How vain is the pilot's art ! how impotent 
the mariner's strength ! They reel to and fro, and stagger in 
the jarring hold ; or cling to the cordage, while bursting seas 
foam over the deck. Despair is in every face, and death sits 
threatening on every surge. — But why, O ye astonished mari- 
ners ! why should you abandon yourselves to despair? Is the 
Lord's hand shortened, because the waves of the sea rage hor* 

* 1 Kings xix. 11. 

•j- Mortalia corda 

Per genie, humilis stravit pavor. » < 
One would almost imagine, that Virgil had read Isaiah, and bor- 
rowed his ideas from chap. ii. ver. 11. The humilis and strawit 
of the one, so exactly correspond with the — bumbled — lowed d&vm 
— of the other. But, in one circumstance, the Prophet is very 
much superior to the poet. Tfce prophet, by giving a striking 
contrast to his sentiments, represents them with incomparably 
greater energy. He says not, men in the gross, or the human 
heart in general ; but men of the most elated looks; hearts 
big with the most arrogant imagina^io : I :n these shall stoop 
from their supercilious heights; i < >vel in the 

dust of abasement^ and shudder w: : ; of abject 

pusillanimity. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 131 

Is iik ear deafened by the roaring thunJers, and the 
bellowing tempest? Cry, cry, unto HIM, who " hokleth the 
Is in Ms list, and the waters in the hollow of his hand." 
HE is All-gracious 10 hear and Almighty to save. If he com- 
mand> the storm shall be hushed to silence; the billows shall 
subside into a calm; the lightnings shall lay their fiery bolts 
aside; and, instead of sinking in a watery grave, you shall 
find yourselves brought to. the de-ired haven. 

Sometimes, after a joyless day, a more dismal night suc- 
ceeds.—— The lazy, louring vapours had, wove so thick a veil 
as the meridian sun could scarcely penetrate. What gloom 
then must overwhelm the nocturnal hours! The moon with- 
draws her sinning* Not a single star is able to struggle through 
the deep arrangement of shades. All \s pitchy darkness, with- 
out one enlivening ray. How solemn ! how awful! It is like 
the shroud of Nature, or the return of chaos. I do not won- 
der, that it is the parent of terrors, and so apt to engender 
melancholy. Lately, the tempest marked its rapid way with 
mischief '; now ''the night dresses her silent pavilion with horror. 
I have sometimes left the beaming tapers, withdrawn from 
the ruddy fire, and plunged into the thickest of those sooty 
shades ; without regretting the change, rather exulting in it as 
a welcome deliverance. The very gloom was pleasing, was 
exhilarating, compared with the conversation i quitted. The 
speech of my companions (how does it grieve me, that I sliould 
even once have occasion to call them by that name !) was the 
language of darkness ; was horror to the soul, and torture to 

the ear. -Their teeth were spears and arroius, and their 

tongue a sharp szuord, to stab and assassinate their neighbour's 
character. Their throat 'was an' open sepulchre, gaping to 
devour the reputation of the innocent, or tainting the air witli 

n their virulent and polluted breath. Sometimes their iicenii* 

ous and ungovernable discourse shot arrows of profaneness 
against Heaven itself; and, in proud defiance, challenged the 

resentment of Omnipotence.- Sometimes, as if it was the 

glory of human nature, to cherish the grossest appetites of the 
brute ; or the mark of a gentleman, to have served an appren- 
ticeship in a brothel; the filthiest jests of the stews (if low 
obscenity can be a jest) were nauseously obtruded on the com- 
pany. All the modest part were offended and grieved ; while 
the other besotted creatures laughed aloud, though the leprosy 
of uncleanliness appeared on their lips. Are not these per- 
sons pisozjers of darkness, though blazing sconces pour arti- 
ficial day through their rooms? Are not their souls immured 
in the most baleful shades, though the noon-tide sun is bright- 
ened by flaming on their gilded chariots ? — They discern not 
that great and adorable Being, who fills the universe with his 
infinite and glorious presence ; who is all eye, to observe their 
actions — all ear, to examine their words. They know not 



132 A WINTER-PIECE. 

the All-sufficient Redeemer, nor the unspeakable b|essecjrr$fs 
of his heavenly kingdom. They are groping for the prize of 
happiness ; but will certainly grasp the thorn of anxiety* They 
are wantonly sporting on the brink of a precipice.; "and are 
every moment in danger of falling headlong into irretrievable 
ruin, and endless despair. 

They have forced me out, and are, perhaps, deriding me 
in my absence ; are charging my reverence for the ever-present 
GOD, and my concern for the dignity of our rational nature, 
to the account of humour and singularity ; to narrowness of 
thought, or sourness of temper. Be it so. I will indulge no 
indignation against them. If any thing like it should arise, f 
will convert it into prayer: " Pity them, O thou Father of 
mercies ! shew them the madness of their profaneness ! shew 
them the baseness of ther vile ribaldry ! Let their dissolute 
rant be turned into silent sorrow and confusion ; till they open 
their lips, to adore thine insulted Majesty, and to implore thy 
gracious pardon. Till they devote to thy service, those social 
hours, and those superior faculties, which they are now abus- 
ing, to the dishonour of thy name, to the contamination of 
their own souls, aixl (unless timely repentance intervene) to 
their everlasting infamy and perdition." 

I ride home amidst the gloomy void. All darkling and so- 
litary, lean scarce discern my horse's head ; and only guess 
out my blind road. No companion; but danger ; or perhaps,, 
" destruction ready at my side."* But why do I fancy myself 
solitary f Is not the Father of lights, the God of my life, the 
great and everlasting friend, always at my right-hand ? Be- 
cause the day is excluded, is his omnipresence vacated? 
Though I have no' earthly -acquaintance near, to assist in case 
of misfortune, or to beguile the time, and divert uneasy sus- 
picions, by entertaining conferences; may I not lay my help 
upon the Almighty, and converse with God by humble sup- 
plication? For this exercise no place is improper, no hour un- 
seasonable, and no posture incommodious. This is society, 
the best of society, even in solitude. This is a fund of de- 
lights, easily portable, and quite inexhaustible. A treasure 
this of unknown value ; liable to no hazard from wrong or 
robbery ; but perfectly secure to the lonely wanderer, in the 
most darksome paths. 

And why should I distress myself with apprehensions of 
peril ? This access to God is not only an indefeasible privilege, 
but a kind of ambulatory garrison. Those who make known 
their requests unto God, and rely upon his protecting care ; 
he gives his angels charge over their welfare. His angels are 
commissioned to escort them in their travellings ; and to hold 
up their goings, that they dash not their foot against a stone. f 
Nay, He himself con descends to be their guardian, and " keeps 

* Job xviii. 12. t Psalm xci. 11, **- 



A WINTER-PIECE.. 133 

all their bones, so that not one of them is broken." Between 
these persons, . and the most mischievous objects, a treaty of 
peace is concluded. The articles of this grand alliance are re- 
corded in the book o/ Revelation ; and will, when it is for the 
real benefit of believers, assuredly be made good in the ad- 
ministrations of Providence. In that day, saith the LORD* 
trill I make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, and 
•with it he fowls of Heaven, and with the creeping things of the 
ground ; and they shall be in league with the stones of the fields 
Though they fall headlong on the flints, even the flints, lilted to 
fracture the scull, shall receive them as into the arms of friend- 
ship, and not offer to hurt whom the Lord is pleased to preserve. 

May 1 then enjoy the presence of this gracious God, and 
darkness and light shall be both alike. Let HIM whisper 
peace to my conscience ; and this dread silence shall be more 
charming than the voice of eloquence, or the strains of music. 
Let HIM reveal his ravishing perfections in my soul; and I 
shall not want the saffron beauties of the morn, the golden glo- 
ries of noon, or the impurpled evening sky. I shall sigh only 
for those most desirable and distinguished realms, where the 
light of HIS countenance- perpetually shines, and consequently 
" there is no night thereof 

How surprising are the alterations of Nature ! I left her, the 
preceding evening plain and unadorned. But now a thick 
rime has shed its hoary honours over all. It has,shagged the 
fleeces of the sheep and crisped the traveller's locks. The 
hedges are richly fringed, and all the ground is profusely pow- 
dered. The downward branches are tasselled with silver, and 
the upright are feathered with the plumy wave. 

The fine are not always the valuable. The air, amidst all 
these gaudy decorations, is charged with chilling and umvhol- 
some damps. The raw hazy influence spreads wide ; sits 
deep ; hangs heavy and oppressive, dn the springs of life. A 
listless languor clogs the animal functions, and the purple 
stream glides but faintly through its channels. In vain, the ru- 
ler of the day exerts his beaming powers : In vain, he attempts 
to disperse th's insurrection of vapours. The sullen, mafignatlt 
cloud refuses to depart. It envelopes the world, and intercepts 
the prospect, I look abroad for the neighbouring village ; i 
send my eye in quest of the rising turret; but am scarce able 
to discern the very next house. Where are the blue arches of 
Heaven ? Where is the radiant countenance of the sun ? where 
the boundless scenes ( of creation ? Lost, lost are their beauties ! 
quenched their glories. The thronged theatre of the universe 
seems an em\ ty void ; and all its elegant pictures, an unditln- 
gnishable blank. — Thus would it have been with our intellectu- 
al views, if the gospel had not come in to our relief. We 

• Job v. 23> Hos. ii. 13. f Rev xxi 2$, 

A A 2 



134 A ..WINTER-PIECE. 

should have known neither our true good, nor real evil. We 
had been a riddle to ourselves ; the present state all contusion, 
and the future impenetrable darkness. But the Sun of Righte- 
ousness, arising with potent and triumphant beams, has dissi- 
pated the interposing cloud; has opened a prospect more 
beautiful than the blossoms of Spring, more cheering than the 
treasures of Autumn, and far more enlarged than the extent of 
the visible system: Which, having kd the eye of the mind 
through fields of grace, over rivers of righteousness, and hills 
crowned withknowledge,terminates ? at length, in the Heavens ; 
sweetly losing itself in regions of infinite bliss and endless glory. 
As 1 walk along the fog, it seems, at some little distance, to 
be almost solid gloom ; such as would shut out every glimpse 
of light, and totally imp- ison me in obscurity. But when 1 
approach, and enter it, 1 find myself agreeably mistaken, and 
the mist much thinner than it appea red. -^-Sueh is the case with 
regard to the sufferings of the present life ; they are not, when 
experienced, so dreadftd as a timerous imagination surmised. 
Such also is the case whh reference to the gratifications of sense ; 
they prove not, when enjoyed, to substantial as a sanguine ex- 
pectation represented. In both instances we are graciously dis- 
appointed. The keen edge of the calamity is -blunted, that it 
may not wound us with incurable anguish : The exquisit relish 
of the prosperity is palled, that it may not captivate mir arfec- 
tions, and enslave them to inferior delights. 

Sometimes the face of things wears a more pleasing form ; 
the very reverse of the foregoing. The sober evening advanr 
ces, to close the short-lived day. The firmament, clear and 
unsullied, puts on its brightest blue. The stars, in thronging 
multitudes, and with a peculiar brilliancy, glitter through the 
fair expanse. While the frost pours its subtle and penetrating 
influence all around. Sharp and intensely severe, all the long 
night, the rigid get her continues its operations. When, late 
and slow, the morning opens her pale eye, in what a curious 
and amusing disguise is Nature dressed ! The icicles, jagged 
and uneven, are pendant on the houses. A whitish film incrusts 
the windows, where mimic landscapes rise, and fancied figures 
swell. The fruitful fields are hardened to iron ; the moistened 
madows are congealed to marble ; and both resound, (an effect 
unknown before) with the peasant's hasty tread. The stream 
is arrested in its career, and its overflowing surface chained to 
the banks. The fluid paths become a solid road ; where the 
finny shoals were wont to rove, the sportive youth slide, or the 
rattling chariots ral 1 -.* Ai;d (what would seem, to an inhabi- 

* Concrescunt subito current i injliitnini crusta 
Undaquejam tergojcrratos sustinct orbes, 
Pupplbus ilia prius patulis^ nunc bospita plaustris 
J&raque diuiliaut %u ! %o* YiRG» 



A WINTER-PIECE. 135 

tant of the Southern world, as unaccountable as the deepest 
mysteries of our religion) that very same breath 'of Heaven, 
which cements the lakes into a chrystal pavement, cleaves the 
oaks as it were with invisible wedges: " Breaks in pieces the 
Northern iron, and the steel; even while it builds a bridge of 
icy rock over the sea."* 

The air is all serenity. Refined by the nitrous particles, it 
affords the most distinct views, and extensive prospects. The 
seeds of infection are killed, and the pestilence destroyed, even 
in embryo. So the cold of affliction tends to mortify our cor- 
ruptions, and subdue our vicious habits. — The crowding- atmos- 
phere constringes our bodies, and braces our nerves. The spi- 
rits are buoyant, awHally briskly on the execution of their of- 
fices. In the Summer-months such an unclouded sky, and so 
bright a sun, would have melted us with heat, and softened us 
into supinehess. We should have been ready to throw our 
limbs under the spreading beach, and to lie at ease by the mur- 
muring brook. Rut now none loiters in his path ; none is seen 
with folded arms. AH is in motion; all is activity. Choice, 
prompted by the weather, supplies the spur of necessity. Thus, 
the rugged school of misfortune often trains up the mind to a 
vigorous exertion of its faculties. The bleak climate oUuiversity 
often inspirits us with a manly resolution; when a soft and 
downy affluence, perhaps, would have relaxed all the generous 
spring of the soul, and have left it enervated with pleasure, or 
dissolved in indolence. 

u Cold cometh out of the North. "f The winds, having 
swept those deserts of snow, arm themselves with millions of 
frozen particles, and makeanerce descent upon our isle. Un- 
der black and scowling-- clouds, they drive, dreadfully whizzing 
through the darkened air. They growl around our houses; 
assault our doors ; and, eager for entrance, fasten on our win- 
dows. Walls can scarce restrain them ; bars are unable to 
elude them; through every cranney they force their way. Ice 
is on their wings ; they scatter agues through the land ; and 
Winter, all Winter rages as they go. Their breath is as a sear- 
ing iron J to the little verdure left in the plains. Vastly more 

* Job xxxviii. 30. The waters are hid, locked up from the 
cattle's lips, and secured from the fisher's net, as wells were 
wont to be closed \^ith a ponderous and impenetrable stone. And 
not only lakes and rivers, but the surface of the great deep, with 
its restless and uncontroitlable surges* is taken captive by the 
frost, and bound in shining fetters. 

f Job xxxvii. 9. 

% This, I suppose, is the meaning of that figurative expres- 
sion used by the prophet Habahhuk ; who, speaking of the Cbal- 
damns invading ffudea, says — Their faces, or the incursions they 
make, shall sup up } shall swallow greedily, shall devour utterly 



136 A WINTER-PIECE. 

pernicious to the tender plants than the sharpest knife, they kill 
their branches, and wound the very root. Let hot the com., 
venture to peep top freely from the entrenchment of th^ fur- 
row ; let not the fruit bearing blossoms dare to come abroad 
from their lodgment in the bark ; iest these murderous blasts 
intercept and seize the unwary strangers, and destroy the hopes 
of the advancing year. 

O, it is severely cold! Who is so hardy, as not to shrink at 
this excessive pinching weather ? See, every face is pale. Even 
the blooming cheeks contract a gelid hue, and the teeth hardly 
forbear chattering.-— Ye that sit easy and joyous, amidst your 
commodious apartments, solacing yourselves in the diffusive 
warmth of your fire, be mindful of your brethren, in the cheer- 
less tenement of poverty. Their shattered panes are open to 
the piercing winds ; a tattered garment scarcely covers their 
quivering flesh; while a few faint itnd dying embers on the 
squalid hearth, rather mock their wishe$>than w&rm their limbs, 
— While the generous juices of Oporto sparkle in your glasses ; 
or the streams, beautifully tinged and deliciously flavoured with 
the Chinese leaf, smoke in the elegant porcelain ; O remem- 
ber, that many of your iellow-creatgres, amidst all the rigour 
of these inclement skies, are emaciated with sickness, benumb 
ed with age, and pining with. hunger. Let " their loins bless 
you," for comfortable clothing. Restore them with medicine ; 
regale them with food; and baffle the raging year. So may 
you never know any of their distresses, but only by the hear- 
ing of the ear, the seeing of the eye, or the feeling of a ten- 
der commiseration ! — —Methinks the bitter b!ustering\vinris 
plead for the poor indigents. May they breathe pity into your 
breasts, while they blow hardships into their huts !— Observe 
tfcpse. blue flames and ruddy coals in your chimney : quickened 
by the cold, they look more lively and glow more strongly. 
Silent, but seasonable, admonition to the gay circle that chat 
and smile around them ! Thus may your hearts, at such a junc- 
ture of need, kindle into a peculiar benevolence : Detain not 
your superfluous piles of wood. Let them hasten to the relief 
of the starving family. Bid them expire in many a willing 
blaze, to mitigate the severity."bf \hQ season, and cheer the '. 
bleak abodes of want. So shall they ascend, mingled with 
thanksgivings to God, and ardent prayers for your welfare— — - 
ascend, more grateful to heaven, than columns of the most 
costly incense. 

Now the winds cease. Having brought their load, they are 
dismissed from service. They have wafted an immense cargo 
of clouds, which empty themselves in $nou\ At first, a few 

the inhabitants of the country and their valuable effects ! as the 
keen corroding blasts of the Eitst wind destroys every green 
thing in the field. Hab. L„9. 



A WINTER-PIECE, 137 

scattered shreds come wandering down the saddening sky. 
Tmi slight skirmish is succeeded by a general onset. The 
flakes^ large and numerous, and thick wavering, descend. They 
dim the air, and hasten the approach of 4 night. Through all 
the night, in softest silence, and with a continual flow, this flee- 
cy shower foils. In the morning, when we awake, what a sur- 
prising change appears ! -Is this the same world ? Here 

is no diversity of colour! I can hardly distinguish the trees 
from the hill 'on which they grow. Which ar# the meadows, 
and which the plains? Where are the green pastures, and where 
the fallow lands ? All things lie blended in bright confusion ; so 
bright, that it heightens the splendour of day, and even dazzles 
the organs of sight. — The lawn is not so fair, as this Snowy 
mantle, which invests the fields ; and even the lily, was the 
lily to appear, would look tarnished in its presence. lean 
think of but one thing, which excels ov equals the glittering fjhe 
of .Winter. Is any person desirous to know my meaning ? He 
may find it explained in that admirable hymn,* composed by 
the Royal Penitent. Is any desirous to possess this matchless 
ornament? He will find it offered to his acceptance in every 
page of the gospel. 

See ! (for the eye cannot satisfy itself without viewing again 
and again the curious, the delicate scene) see ! how the hedges 
are habited> like spotless vestals! The houses are roofed wi tti 
uniformity and lustre. The meadows arexoveved with a car- 
pet of the finest ermine.f The groves bow beneath the lovely 
burden ; and all, all below, is one wide, immense, shining waste 
of white. — By deep snows, and heavy rains, GOD sealethup 
the hand of every man; and for this purpose, adds our sacred 
philosopher, that all men may know Ms works % He confines 
them within their doors, and puts a stop to their secular busi- 
ness, that they may consider the tilings which belong to their 
spiritual '.welfare; th.%t, having a vacation from their ordinary 
employ, they may observe the works of his power, and become 
acquainted with the mysteries of'hjs grace. 

And worthy, worthy of all observation, are the works of the 
great Creator, They are prodigiously various, and perfectly 
amazing. How pliant and ductile is Nature under his forming; 
hand ! At his command the self same substance assumes the 
most different shapes, and Is transformed into an endless mul- 
tiplicity of figures. If HE ordains, the water is moulded into 

* Can any thing be whiter than snow ? Yes. saith David ; if 
Goi>be pleased to wash me from my sinsin the blood of Christ, 
even I shall be whiter than s?iow. Psalm li. 7. 

f This animal is milk-white. As for those black spots we ge- 
nerally see in linings of ermine, they are added by the furrier, 
in order to diversify the appearance, or heighten the beauty of K 
the aative colour. 

J Job xxxvii. 7. 



1S8 $ WINTER-?I£CE. 

i*ail, and discharged upon the earth like a volley of shot; i 
V.t is consolidated into ice, and defends the rivers, '«* as it were 
WtH^ag)^^^^^ At the bare intimation of his will, the 
very same element is scattered in hoarfrost, like a sprinkling of 
the mast attenuated ashes ; or is spread over the surface of the 
ground, in these couches of swelling and flaky down. 
j The snow however it may carry the appearance of cold, af- 
fords a warm garment for the corn ; screens it from nipping 
frosts, and cherishes its infant growth. It will abide for a while, 
to exact a protecting care, and exercise a fostering influence. 
Then, touched by the sun, or thawed by a softening gale, the 
furry vesture melts into general moisture; sinks deep into tiie 
soil, and saturates its pores with the dissolving niter J replenish- 
ing the glebe with those principles of Vegetative life, which will 
open into the bloom of Spring, and ripen into the fruits of Au- 
tumn; — — Beautiful emblem this, and comfortable representa- 
tion of the Divine word, both in the successful, and advanta- 
geous issue of its operation ! « As the rain Cometh down, and 
the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth 
the earth and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give 
$eed to the sower, and bread to the eater: so shall my word be, 
that goeth forth out of my mouth : it shall not return unto me 
void, but shall accomplish that which I please, and it. shall 
prosper in the thing whereunto I sent it.* 1 * 

Nature, at length, puts off her lucid veil. She dropsdt in a 
trickling thaw. The loosened snow, roils in sheets from the 
houses. Various openings spot the hills; which, even while 
we look, becosie larger, and more numerous. The trees rid 
themselves, by degrees, of the hoary incmmbranee.~^-Shook 
from the springing boughsy part falls heavy to the ground, part 
flies abroad in shining atoms. Our fields and gardens, lately 
buried beneath the drifted heaps, rise plain and distinct to 
view. Since we see Nature once again, has she no verdant 
traces, no beautiful features left? They are, like real friends, 
very rare ; and therefore, the more: particularly to be regarded, 

the more highly to be valued.- Here and there the Holly 

hangs out her glowing berries; the Laurustinus spreads her 
-graceful tufts; and both under a covert of unfading foliage. 
— - — The plain, but hardy Ivy, cloths the decrepid, crazy 
wall; nor shrinks from the friendly office, though the skies 
frown, and the storm roars.— The Laurel, firm, erect, and 
bold, expands its leaf of vivid green. In spite of the united, 
the repeated attacks of wind, and rain, and frost, it preserves 
an undismayed lively look ; and maintains its post, while wi- 
thering millions fall around. Worthy, by vanquishing the rug? 
gsd force of Winter, worthy to adorn the triumphant conquer- 
or's brow. — Nor must I forgej; the Bay-tree ; which scorns to 
be a mean pensioner on a few transient sunny gleams ; or with 

* Isaiah lv. 10, 1L 



A WINTER-PIECE, 139 

a servile obsequiousness, to vary its appearance, in conformity 
to the changing seasons : By such indications of sterling worth; 
and staunch resolution, reading a lecture to the poet's genius, 
While it weaves the chaplet for his temples*—- ~ Fhese, and a 
few Other plants, clad with native verdure, retain their comely 
aspect, in the bleakest climes, and in the coldest months. 

Such, and so durable, ate the accomplishments of a refined 
understanding, and an amiable temper. The tawdry orna- 
ments of dress, which catch the unthinking vulgar, soon be- 
come insipid and despicable. The rubied lip, and the rosy 
cheek, fade, Even the sparkling wit,.* as well as the spark- 
] m g eye, please but for a moment. But the virtuous mind has 
charms, which survive the decay of every inferior embellish- 
ment; charms, which add to the fragrancy of the flower, 
the mmanencyvi the evergreen. 

Such likewise, is the happiness of the sincerely religious ; 
like a tree, says the inspired moralist, '« whose leaf shall not 
fall," He borrows not his peace from external circumstances • 
but has a fund within, and is ."/satisfied from himself, "f Even 
though impoverished by. calamitous accidents, he is rich in the 
possession of grace, and richer in the hope of glory. His joyS 
are infinitely superior to, as well as nobly independant on, the 
transitory glow of sensual delight, or the capricious favours of 
what the world calls Sortune. 

* .'? How little does Got) esteem the things that men count 
great ; the endowments of wit and eloquence, that men admire 
in some ! Alas ! how poor are they to him ! He Tespecteth not 
any who are -wise in heart : They are nbtlaing, and less than no- 
thing, in his eyes. Even wise-men admire, how little it is that 
men know i how small a matter lies under the sound of these 
popular wonders, a learnt man, a great scholar, a great states- 
man. How much more does the all-wise God meanly account 
of these? Hf often discovers, even to the world, their mean- 
ness. Me befools them. So valour, or birth, or worldly great- 
ness, these he gives, and gives as things he makes no great reck- 
oning of, to such as shall never see his face ; and calls to the 
inheritance of glory poor despised creatures, that are looked on 
as the offscourings and refuse of the world." 

: ^~TMU$ t [ says an excellent author ; who writes with the 
most amiable spirit of benevolence ; with the most unaffected 
air of humility ; and, like the sacred originals, from which he 
copies, with a majestic simplicity of style.— Whose select worts 
1 may venture to recommend, not only as a treasure, but as a 
mine of genuine, sterling, evangelical piety, — See page 520 of 
Archbishop Leighton's Select Works, the Edinburgh edition, 
octavo. Which it is necessary to specify s because the London 
edition does not contain that part of his writings which has sup- 
plied me with the preceding quotation. 
\ Prov. xiv. 14. 



140 A WINTER-PIECE, 

If the snow composes the light-armed troops of the sky, 
xnethinks the hail constitutes its heavy artillery.* When driven 
by a vehement wind, with what dreadful impetuosity does that 
stony shower fall ! How it rebounds from the -frozen ground, 
and rattles on the resounding dome ! It attenuates the rivers in^ 
to smoke, or scourges them into foam. It crushes the infant- 
flowers ; cuts in pieces the gardener's early plants ; and batters 
the feeble fortification of his glasses into shivers. It darts into 
the traveller's face: He turns, with haste from the stroke ; or 
feels, on his cheek, for the gushing blood. l( he would retreat 
mto the house, it follows him thither ; and, like a determined 
t^iemy, that pushes the pursuit, dashes through the crackling 

panes.— But the fierce attack is quickly over. The clouds 

have soon spent their shafts; soon unstrung their bow.-— — 
Happy for the inhabitants of the earth, that a sally so dread- 
fully furious, should be so remarkably short ! What else 
could endure the shock, or escape destruction ! 

But, behold a bow, of no hostile intention ! a bow, painted 
in variegated colours, on the disburdened cloud. How vast is 
the extent, how delicate the texture, of that showery arch ! It 
compasseth the heavens with a glorious circle, and teaches us 
to forget the horrors of the storm. Elegant its form, and rich 
its tinctures ; but more delightful ils sacred significancy. 
While the violet and the rose blush in its beautiful aspect, the 
olive-branch smiles in its gracious import. It writes, in radiant 
dyes, what the Angels sung in harmonious strains ; " Peace on 
earth, and good-will towards men," It is the stamp of insu- 
rance, for the continuance of seed-time and harvest ; for the 
preservation and security of the visible world, f It is the com- 
fortable tokcn% of a better state, and a happier kingdom ; — a 
kingdom, where sin shall cease, and misery be abolished ; where 
storms shall beat, and Winter pierce no more ; but holiness, 
happiness, and joy, like one unbounded Spring, for ever, 
ever bloom. 

. * He casmb forth his ice like morsels, Psal. cxlvii. 17. Which, 
in modem language, might be thus expressed: He pouretb his 
bail like a volley of shot. The word adequately translated mor- 
sels, alludes, I think, to those fragments of the rock, or those 
smooth stones from the brook, which, in the day of battle, the 
warriors hurled from their slings. 

f Gen. ix, 22—26, } Rev. iv. 3. 



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